


Finding My Starlight

by Silver_Melody



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adopted Children, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Awkward Crush, Bad Ending, Big Sister Aranea Highwind, Child Death, Child Neglect, Dawn of the Future (Final Fantasy XV), Emotions, Episode Ignis DLC, Episode Ignis Spoilers, Episode Prompto DLC, Episode Prompto Spoilers, Final Fantasy XV Royal Edition, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, Love, M/M, MT Prompto Argentum, Messenger Prompto Argentum, Misunderstandings, Monthly Update, Multiple Endings, Multiple Paths, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious, Oracle Prompto Argentum, Orphans, Parent Cor Leonis, Pining, Probably deserve it, Reincarnation, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Unrequited Love, When will it ever end, You can @ me, angsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Melody/pseuds/Silver_Melody
Summary: It was the end for him, for all of them really. It wasn't what they had in mind when they went on that road trip years ago, still wasn't now. But they were here, fighting and trying to live in order to restore the dawn.But they would have to live without him.And he couldn't, he wouldn't accept that, he just can'!!How can they live with a world without him? How can't they go on and fix the kingdom they all worked so hard for him to get back? How can they-Pain erupted all over the side of his face, a loud snap was ringing in his ears before he felt hollow when his legs give out.He vaguely thought how his head was facing an unholy way, his name being called out with his grip on his gun bearly holding on.But the only thing he could think about when his eyes glazed back at the castle doors, shut tight to keep the Demons he promised to keep out, was the other promise he made.'I'm sorry I couldn't be at your side. I'm so sorry....'Or Prompto has somehow gotten himself in a time loop where he keeps going back in time and tries to figure out why the Astral's keep doing this, as well as trying to stop the world from taking his King and using him as a sacrificial lamb.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Aranea Highwind, Prompto Argentum & Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 34
Kudos: 100





	1. Original

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, this story idea started when I got the Royal Edition over the normal one.
> 
> So for me, after going through the game a bit, I look up to see what was the difference of their original vs the royal edition end. And it's just a little switch of the ending so nothing that big.
> 
> Then you started to read au ideas like soulmates and Prince Prompto or time-travel and it gets you hooked you know.
> 
> Then-Then!- two things happened.
> 
> Dawn of the Future storybook. 
> 
> Let! Me! Tell! You!
> 
> So for those that don't know, "Dawn of the Future" is a book of the episode DLC's that did not make it. That being, Episode Aranea, Luna, and Noctis. They were all originally made to make a whole new ending for FFVX but was scraped as the maker of this idea left. 
> 
> BUT! But, this did not stop it altogether as the episodes are all written down in a nook in which is called "Dawn of the Future". And let me tell you it is a WHOLE different ending then anyone of you will know.
> 
> (Unless you read the book then props for you! :D)
> 
> But in any case, this is going to be an idea in which Prompto is going back in time in multiple loops over and over until he completes the missions the Astral(s) gave him. No biggy. Right?
> 
> Yeah, who am I kidding, this is a story that has kidnapping in its tags. I think it is safe to say that nothing will be all right.

Prompto was a lonely boy, has been ever since he could remember.  
  
He knows he has parents, but they were always away from work. He hardly talks to them, much less sees them. He used to see them as parents but now he sees them as strangers that come and go. He was given money every month for him to feed himself and rent was paid, no problem, no issue.

He doesn't ask questions when they tell him to hide his wrist, doesn't complain when they said they will be gone for months, doesn't say a word when they tell him to use the money they send to him wisely.  
  
He doesn't speak but he was so, so lonely.  
  
Once he saw a camera on sale and bought it without thinking. He had to skip some lunches with the money he used but it became his new hobby, something to keep his mind off the empty halls. It worked but it doesn't work all the time.

He goes to school every day and he sits in the back with his camera, listening to his other classmates as he goes through his gallery. Sure some come to talk to him but he was too shy or plain scared when they so much as glanced at him.  
  
Prompto was a lonely boy, so when he saw the puppy on the streets, limping in genuine pain he not only brought it back to his empty home to treat it but from the selfish part of him that wanted someone there with him.

Tiny, he called her, was everything he ever wanted. She was there when he came home, licked his face as his new alarm clock, barked whenever it was time to eat and was given her share of food.  
  
He knew that someone was looking for her, somewhere, another person, maybe a kid like him, was waiting for a small white puppy to come to their doorstep and greet them with whines and kisses.  
  
He knew but still, he waited three days before putting up an ad to ask anyone if they were missing their puppy.

Tiny might have known because the same day he sent the ad was when she whimpered near his bedside till he grabbed her and pulled her in bed with him and curled up on his side with a small growl of approval.  
  
In that week, he was selfish he knew, but it was the happiest he had ever been.  
  
Then he realized that Tiny was gone in the next morning.

He searched everywhere, and anywhere. Down the alleyway, through the trash, blocks after blocks after blocks, running till he couldn't breathe anymore, searching and searching.  
  
Tiny was gone, his only companion.  
  
To say he was devastated was putting it lightly. He was downright depressed for days on end, eating more than he should, staying away, and ignoring everyone. He just couldn’t bring himself to do anything anymore.  
  
Then a letter came in the mail.

That's when everything changed.

/+\×/+\

  
  
“Walk tall my friends.”

  
  
/+\×/+\

Shit.  
  
Another to his right.  
  
Shit!  
  
There’s two behind his back.

SHIT!

The one that he was fighting knocked him back, further away from Ignis and Gladio  
  
Fucken Astral Shit!  
  
Without another moment of hesitation, he shot rapid-fire at the two Daemon behind him.  
  
It was the end for him, for all of them really. It wasn't what they had in mind when they went on that road trip years ago, still wasn't now. But they were here, fighting and trying to live in order to restore the dawn.

Another Daemon appeared, not three feet in front of him, just a swipe away and his life would end.  
  
But they would have to live without him.  
  
Instinct kicked in as he shot again.  
  
Yet he couldn't, he wouldn't accept that, he just can'!!  
  
How can they live with a world without him? How can't they go on and fix the kingdom they all worked so hard for him to get back? How can they-

Pain erupted all over the side of his face, a loud snap was ringing in his ears before he felt hollow when his legs gave out.  
  
He vaguely thought how his head was facing an unholy way, his name being called out with his grip on his gun barely holding on.  
  
But the only thing he could think about when his eyes glazed back at the castle doors, shut tight to keep the Demons he promised to keep out, was the other promise he made to the person behind them.  
  
'I'm sorry I couldn't be at your side. I'm so sorry....'  
  
‘Noctis.’

/+\x/+\

...a…...le…..sou

….d……….at…..be….d…

I…..of……...ig…..rt…….

…..n…….ple…….x..

……...os…….f…….me…...ss..

Sa……..l…..uc……..ill

…..he…...on……...f…..nom..

..do………..ha……...id…...one

...id……….nge………..ist

….re…...r...s…….va…..igh..

...es…...h…….old……….y

…..nd….ks……..di…..

…...l….bl…….mpio…..


	2. Royal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto thought it was just a dream. An uncanny and very realistic dream.
> 
> But that was when he woke up in the inside of the tent the four used to share during their journey, when he was all but dizzy of sleep.
> 
> Now here he was, dead by the same Daemon that killed him in his dreams. Expect this time he was feeling a strange sense of deja vu.
> 
> Did he not go through this before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot that this I had two more weeks of school and had a load of test and work to redo and get extra credit points because I refuse to get a B on anything and so much of my time was do school work or sleeping because I need coffee more than ever and WOW! Ugh I'm so glad I have a few more days till then. So because of that this chapter was put on hold for awhile. How long has it been since I put the first chapter?
> 
> Anyways heads up, this chapter is based on the royale edition ending of FFXV. So keep in mind over that k? So the ending here is just a bit more different then the next one, a bit of confusion on Prompto's part as well. After all this is going be the first of many of his new...uh...divine intervention of changing fates path. Yeah that's it.

At first, he had thought nothing of it, played it off as a dream. Hell, he didn’t even remember it as a dream

Prompto woke with a start, a soft cough escaped his lips before he moved his hand to cover and muffle the sound. His mind was telling him how dry and twisted his throat felt: but the more he coughed, the more it seemed that it was a lie. Still, he kept on coughing. Finally after a while the sensation he thought he felt was replaced and gone.

He hoped he didn't wake up anyone.

Fortunately, everyone else was already awake and out already. Indicated with the sound of pots clattering telling him where Ignis was and the grunts Gladio sounded as he did his morning exercise. 

Lips twitching, he closed his eyes. He remembered just yesterday he was still out on the road, killing Daemons that were too close for his taste near Hammerhead. The Daemons were easy enough, having his trusty gun to finish any onsight. Afterward, he had slept with the sound of howls and growls outside the garage door. But now...

Turning to his side he looked over to see a lump of blankets next to him, slowly rising and falling.

He resisted a snort.

Well, everyone but their oh so glorious king. 

Just a foot away from him was Noctis.

Prompto’s eyes wandered over the sleeping king's figure. His hair has grown out, now looking something like that of the late King Regis. Incredibly it looked soft for having not been cared for in the last ten years. His clean, sharp face was now a forest of hairs, having shown signs that he was starting to grow a beard. His face, arms, and hands were smeared with dirt and grim but his clothes looked still well put unlike the rest of them.

Prompto felt a giggle coming up when he realized he was hogging all of the blankets to himself, his hands finding an abandoned pillow to cuddle with as he dozed on. 

It was bittersweet, not long ago he was just hunting down some Daemons near Hammerhead and chatting up with Cindy. Now here he was, all four of them back together again going through the same routine they all had ten years ago. Ignis cooking in ungodly hours, Gladio’s training through the morning to build up a sweat, Noctis sleeping in like always, and Prompto waking up only for the job of waking their sleepy prince falling towards him.

Yet he was not the prince, he was a king, the King of Light from what Ignis told him was right. They were not going back to their daily lives all those years ago, not anymore, won’t have a chance to.

For the King of Light needed to sacrifice himself in order to restore what his title had implied. 

Prompto closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to think about it, couldn’t think about it.

He had waited this long, only for him to lose him again. It was frustrating and unfair. How dare the gods tell Noctis to sacrifice himself, how dare they! It wasn’t any better when they realized, when all of the boys released, that King Regis knew. After confronting Cor about this, not only did they find out that it was the king who knew of this price but also the King’s Shield and Lunafreya. 

They knew, they all knew.

His mouth went dry.

He didn’t want to think about it, but that was all he could think about. How they would enter Insomnia, battling through the Daemons in their way. How they would encounter Ardyn with his speech of riddles. He can feel the flames of Ifrit and his defeat, cooled down only by the help of Shiva. How Noctis wanted to take his own piece of memories when he asked to take one of the photos back then. The throne room is decorated with bodies hanging by chains. A purple essence that paralyzed his body before he-

His eyes snapped open.

Wait…

That was… real. Almost too real…

Did he not dream that…?

Why would he dream that? Sure he knows that they have to fight Ardyn and Daemons along the way, that was a given. But to fight Ifrit? Bodies wrapped in chains? Purple essence? Why did he think about such a thing? Of all the things wouldn’t they just fight Ardyn and bring back the sun? Not all….not all whatever he thought.

...Perhaps having Noctis back messed his brain up. Or he just now realizing how messed up it became from having been in the darkness for so long. Most likely the latter.

Shaking his head from that thought, Prompto got up to face the night.

Hopefully, after this, he would wake up to meet the day.

/+\x/+\

Prompto pulled on the collar around his neck, not liking the restrictions of the neck cover at all. I mean, hey sure he doesn't do close combat like the rest of his friends but he does need to turn his head fast enough to one-shot his enemies before they come at him. Preferably at a distance.

Or perhaps it's just the metal parts that were engraved in it that he didn’t like. Ever since ten years ago he always hated the feeling of metal near his skin. Guns were a second nature instinct to him so it never did bother him that much, especially when he always wore gloves. But it always gave him chills and nightmares every time he so much as grazed near a clean slab of shiny minerals compacted into a small ounce of metal.

He will never forget those agonizing days. 

“Well, fella’s,” Gladio stretched his arms up. “We’re homeward bound at last. Time to suit up.”

Prompto smiled at the choice of word that Gladio used. It seems that no matter what, Gladio will always dot on Iris. Truly how an older brother should act.

“Yeah,” Prom cheered in typical Prompto fashion. “Finally get to rock these threads.”

They are pretty awesome, they really are! The jacket was nice and it fit him well enough that it won't slip during battle. His gloves were fingerless and free for him to pull on the trigger on any Daemon that came his way. His pants felt comfortable and his new boots were like a dream to him, way better than his old worn-out ones back at Hammerhead waiting for someone else to use.

The only problem was the collar. The collar has to go. It felt too real to the restraint he had back then.

(It was shocking him. It was choking him. He can't breathe he can't-)

But there was no way he was going to say that, especially in front of Gladio. After all, Iris made them, no way was he going to downrate the Daemon Slayer’s work. Even if she is a bundle of bubbly joy.

Ignis nodded as he placed a hand over his waist. “Wear them with pride.”

“Yeah,” Noct nod with a slight small smile. One that Prompto missed (he will store this memory for later days, _if ~~if there will ever be a later~~ ) _. “Let’s just hope they still fit.”

Please, if anything, last time Noctis said that his pants felt weird because how he limped a lot when they faced If-

Prompto flattered a bit, confused.

Why would he think that? Sure Noctis would have back pain here and there in their trip through Eos. Some of the worst kinds were of Noctis limping before Gladio swept him off and carried him back to camp or the hotel despite the raven’s protest. They would always take the rest of the day off which was a relief to all three of them, even with Noct saying how fine he was. Which, they all knew was a lie.

Thank the Six they had Ignis to keep him straight every time he tried to leave. He never did make it out the door before Ignis grabbed him and placed him back to bed.

Still… it didn’t help the thought that he thought that Noct - no, not that he _thought_ persay - what he dreamt that Noctis was-

“Prompto?”

Prompto looked up, only now realizing he had stopped completely. His friends were ahead of him, all turned to look his way. 

A feeling of nostalgia came over him.

(It felt too real.)

“Sorry,” he apologized. "It’s just been so long since we came don'tcha think.”

Gladio huffed a bit, Ignis hummed, but Noctis was the only one to smile sadly.

“Home sweet home.”

The feel of nostalgia only grew.

(Why does it feel too real?)

Every word, every action, every use of their weapons felt like a replay, a rewind. He moved away before a Flan could hit him, one that he knew would leave him with a nasty bruise under his rib cage. He shot at one of the Golems before it could hurt Ignis and crash him on to the wall of a nearby building. He wordlessly let Noctis go after one of the Daemons at the foreplay, knowing that he would be able to kill it in one go.

Was something wrong? How did he know that the Flan was aiming for him? Or the fact that Ignis might get hurt? He didn’t understand. Everything was like a rewind, something he saw before, something he experienced before.

His dream.

Perhaps it was his dream. He knew he dreamt of it - he has to! - because he woke up like his. The thought of this playing out. The dream - gods it has to be a dream - where they enter the throne room and saw - dreamt - the bodies. His own failing before he woke up with the sight of Noctis outside and then how he turned his back to them and he just walked away - walked tall - before they-

Then Gladio told them they should go see the Glaives.

Prompto sighed in relief. It was a good strategy, to see the Glaives and ask for help to cover them when they leave for the castle. A good resting stop before they leave for their final battle. To heal up and all of that planning phase. But he only sighed in relief because the feeling of nostalgia was not there, and he hoped - desperately hoped - that the sight of chained up death and tainted purple magic and Noctis walking _away_ would not become true.

And he was right.

Oh, how he wished he was wrong. 

They meet Ardyn too soon, far too soon for his own liking - chains, cuffs, can’t move _someone help Noctishelp_ **_pleasesavemeNoct!_ ** \- and he could tell he wasn’t the only tense one in the group.

And Ardyn - Daemon _killer_ ** _villain_** ~~ ** _monster_**~~ \- just smiled like there were old friends meant to greet each other. 

Bullshit.

“Fashionably late, I see,” Ardyn smirked.

“Ardyn,” Noctis snarled back.

If anything came out from the use of his name dripping with venom, it was only made the amusement he had in place grew. “Insomnia, the Crown City of my kingdom,” he mockingly bowed at Noct. 

Noctis' face harden.

So did Ardyn’s.

“I bid you a warm welcome.”

A firework of light lit the night sky, blinding his eyes for being in the dark for so long. A burn of pain heated behind his eyes but he ignored it due to the fact that Ardyn just somehow made a light show.

But the devil himself wouldn’t do things for show.

“What the hell’s he doing?” 

Prompto agreed with Gladio, the hell indeed. 

As soon as Gladio said that, a meteor shower came upon them. Balls of fire struck everywhere, dooming down over the abandoned building of the once beautiful Insomnia. Rubble and glass shards rained down on them as they all covered to protect themselves (they protect themselves from much more dangerous things). Fire clung on to the earth, spreading itself to make itself into a much bigger threat as the scent of melted metal wafted in the air.

It was a new type of hell.

What the hell indeed. 

“I’ve prepared something special for you, Noctis.”

They all tensed up, waiting for what else Ardyn might have up his sleeve.

At first nothing, only the sound of fire crackling and crushed stone offered in the silence. 

Till a glow surrounded the Citadel. 

Prompto was confused, but from the look on Noctis’ face told him otherwise. 

The glow that circled around the Citadel build upon itself, growing taller and taller to cover over the old building like a thin line of protection, like a barrier, like-

Prompto’s breath caught.

“Yes,” Ardyn dwelling rather lazily. “It’s the same Wall your father gave his life to sustain. I thought it might serve as a lovely little reminder of you Daddy Dearest. Do you like it?”

Noctis snapped. “You’re sick!”

Ardyn, the goddamn bastard, forged an act of placing his hand over his heart, a mocking expression of hurt splattered on his face. “How could you say that to your own flesh and blood?”

Dropping his hand to favor it to point at Noctis he continued. “I’ll try to find it in my heart to forgive you by the time you reach the Citadel.” Turning around, Ardyn allowed himself to be surrounded by a purple essen as he smiled down on them.

(It took everything in Prompto not to flinch. It took everything in him not to think about sweet sweet Luna hanged lifeless with her brother right next to her, his hand reaching and reaching but never quite there with King Regis left mangled and unnaturally bent with a Kingsglave he felt he show know with a burn, such a deep deep burn on his arm with his eyes open so wide and he's looking at him please someone help them-)

“-ill greet you at the gate.”

It was only by the movement of both Noctis and Gladio did he notice he spaced out. 

Breathing in silently he tried to put that dream behind him. 

(Because it was a dream, it has to be!)

(At least, he thinks it is one.)

(Till they meet her.)

They were still running, trying to get to the Citadel in time to take down Ardyn when a shock of electricity surged in the air. 

Then a circle of magic appeared. 

It, just like the barrier that mocked at them, glowed a bloody red. Brighter and brighter it lit in the red fiery terrain before a flash of blue appeared. 

And so did a fucken giant ass robot. 

“Wh-,” Prompto stuttered out. “What kind of interdimensional nonsense is that!?”

“Bad interdimensional nonsense, I’d say,” Gladio replied back as he stepped back, as they all stepped back really. 

“Man forges a weapon to fell the gods: ‘Omega’.”

Prompto only blinked at the appearance of Gentiana, or in other words, Shiva. 

“The weapon knows nothing of compassion - only destruction,” Shiva advised as she walked a bit forward before stopping. 

“Legends tell of such a device created in antiquity,” Ignis supplied his own words. For in truth he too had heard of such a thing, or in more literal terms, read to. When they had all but studied the fate of their king they all went different ways to find a loophole, a way to save Noct. 

(They couldn’t find one.)

Prompto in his search left for Niflheim. After the darkness, Niflheim fell just like the rest of the world. In darkness such as this, no one was safe, least of all the roaring enemy that had them in the palm of their hands when they fought to take back Insomnia. No one was truly safe. 

At first, no one accepted anyone from Niflheim, blaming them, even its citizens, of the tragedy that befalls all of them. Most of the bodies found seemed to have blonde pale features rather than tan and dark hair. Niflheim in its part had more Daemons than anywhere else, making it a suicide mission for anyone that made to venture there. 

But Prompto would do anything for Noctis.

So during the time in which people still saw Niflheim as an enemy, he fixed a ship by the shoreline of Galdin Quay, set off into the ocean, and blasted his way to the one place he never wanted to go back. 

The remains of the magitek production facility.

“But,” Ignis continued. “I always assumed those were mere myths.”

“It might know no equal,” Shiva said, going right after Ignis finished his own supply of information. Turning away from the killer machine that was right in front of them, she looked at Noctis, eyes still closed. “The wise dare not cross its path, last they meet their end.”

The machine moved, looking their way as it made a step forward and the group of friends all but summoned their weapons in a familiar blue light. 

Noctis went first, wrapping his way to get a strong hit from above as Ignis and Gladio made a running start at the machine as it got distracted by the King attacking at it. Prompto had just gotten his gun ready when he saw movement at the corner of his eye.

Shiva - Gentiana - was still there looking at him.

Looking at him!

He froze, not knowing what to do. He hardly saw Gentiana, much less even seen her with her eyes open. Noctis said she rarely does, probably from the fact that she is literally an Astral herself and would mean that opening her eyes could lead to showing her true form. But she was there, still in the clothing of white and black with eyes wide open, looking like she was staring deep into his soul.

He, in better words, was scared.

What the fuck was he supposed to do!?

What seemed like years, centuries really, Gentiana - Shiva! - finally spoke.

“Thus is best to complete the task that is handed to the Silver One for the Kings, and all their light, to be free.”

Prompto blinked, confused.

Task? Kings? Silver One?

Wha **-**

“Prompto! Wake up!”

Prompto squeaked, a habit he gotten over but embarrassingly did again, as he fumbled with his gun before joining in the fight. “I-I’m awake!”

He only got a shot in when he looked back behind him.

Shiva was gone.

Whatever she had said, Prompto had all but pushed it behind him as he fought off the killer bag of bolts and metal.

(He can’t move. Astrals please someone….help……)

They killed the machine, the black ugly bug in all its glory. It wasn’t easy, having to have Noctis use all of the Kings Arms to one-up and kill it but they finally caught it off guard before it exploded into nothing but black scraps. I mean come on, that thing had lasers, teleportation, missiles, and a shield! No wonder no one has killed it yet. They had a hard time with just all four of them put together.

But they had no time to rest, they only used up a bit of energy from that fight with no serious wounds so they continued on. They had to go on, nothing could stop them with the fate of the world on their hands. 

So they fought on, Daemons here and there, sprinting and running to get to the Citadel.

And then they meet with two things as they near the Citadel’s entry. 

He did not know when Ardyn even said he had a little pet but he sure as hell knows that that dog that towered over all of them with three heads attached to its body is not ‘little’.That thing was a fricken Hurricane! Pryna - his Tiny - is what you call - called - little. Not...not that monster!

At least the next entry was well received. Having Cor jump over that big puppy was a sight for sore eyes. Even better when he sliced the middle one's head.

In all honesty, he missed the Marshall. In the ten years he had been off fighting, searching, and surviving, he met Cor for more than a couple of times. He always helped Prompto out, heck he helped him way before these ten years of darkness when he was training under his wing to be Noctis’ Crownsguard. The Marshall was someone who, after a while of knowing, is the impression of authority, respect, and shy fondness that he learned to pick up on in the years of darkness. 

While Gladio and Ignis were the only people he would always follow and care for during the dark time, those who he clinged onto and stuck to like glue since Noctis left, he would say that Cor was a close third to something of a safe haven for him.

He wasn’t home, that was Noctis’ role in his life, but Cor was someone who gave him warmth in his own stern kind self. 

So to say when his world came crashing down when a ball of fire went straight for Noctis was an understatement.

But then it was Cor who jumped in front of him…

And his heart was caught up in his throat.

Even if he was alive he was hurt...Cor was hurt…

He felt the need to run up to the Marshall and hug him, but he knew it wouldn’t be accepted, not in the way he thought it would be. 

So he watched in silence as they walked on.

And then they faced another problem.

“Looks like there’s no way past the Wall…,” Prompto frowned not knowing what to do. They had traveled fine so far a little worse for wear but fine nevertheless. They had finally reached the entry only to face a bigger problem of getting in. 

But then he just had to open his mouth because as soon as he said that he heard the sound of hissing behind him.

A lot of hissing.

Daemons were coming.

“There’s way too many of them!”

“And no way outta this, either.” 

“Still… We can’t just give up now.”

He wasn’t, none of them were. They would never give up, not after how far they went and how long they fought. No matter what they were going to see this to the end.

But by some miracle, they were saved by the most unlikely person.

“Luna.” Noctis gasped.

Astrals!

“Gods above, hear my plea,” Lady Lunafreya moved her trident, the Trident of the Oracle, to be held securely by both of her hands. “Lend the Chosen King your strength.”

She stomped her foot and the trident down a small but attention-worthy sound with Lunafreya’s face filled with confidence and determination. “That he may save our Star from darkness’ blight!”

With those words, a light appeared next to Luna, with Gentiana walking from it.

He froze, recalling the words she told him before. 

Kings? Light? Silver One?

What does it mean? What are you saying?

“The lady’s words have reached the havens. By the will of the Oracle and the grace of the gods, a path for the King is made.”

The four friends were instantly blinded by the light, a light blue that coated like a mist was cool to the touch, but not cold enough to alarm them into seeking warmth.

Then thunder rolled in the distance. 

Ramuh, the Fulgurian, rained down on the Daemons that were coming their way. 

Shiva, the Glacian, froze the mockery of a Wall with thick sheets of ice.

Leviathan, the Hydraean, emerged from the depths and wrapped a hold of the Wall, cracking it.

Titan, the Archaean, weakened the Wall with his immortal hands.

Bahamut, the Draconian, raised his swords and broke the Wall.

Crystals of magic and ice fell and withered away into nothing. 

Then there was silence.

None of them did not know what to say.

All but Noctis.

“Luna…,” he started. “Thank you.”

Luna smiled at this, a soft warm smile before bowing down then straightening up. Her eyes were only on Noctis and somehow, Prompto felt like he was intruding on something. “The fate of our Star rests with you now my King.” 

Luna stepped forwards, a small step, then another and another. She was walking towards Noctis, a small plea in her eyes as she did so. 

Noctis, too, was walking towards her, his hand outstretched to reach her. 

Luna gave a running go with her hand out for him to grab and Noctis uncurled his fist to hold on to hers. 

She disappeared in a sparkle of light before they could reach each other. 

There was silence once again, but this time instead for the Gods it was for Noct. 

(Something cold and twisted in his chest before he forced it down.)

Still, they counted onward. 

And the feeling of deja vu came back full force. 

They had to battle Ifrit. They had to weaken the Infernian so then Bahamut will be summoned again and then he will become trapped once more before they attack him again before Shiva will come and kiss him to-

Wait…

Shit! The blast of fire!

Prompto, knowing what will happen, grabbed Noctis instead of staying put and calling out for him. He only managed to drag him down before Gladio and Ignis joined them in making a human shield over Noctis as flames blasted away.

He grunted from the fire that was burning against his coat but he didn’t care. He had to save Noct.

The fight was the same, even with all the other events that happened before this fight was the same as the last. Every movement, every motion, even the sign of Ifrit hand twitching before it would reach out towards Noct and throw him away. The first time he did that Prompto cried in worry but he knew for a fact that it would not kill Noct. 

(That doesn't quiet down his worry though.)

The second time Ifrit threw Noct he was ready and caught his King before he could crash on the floor with his bad knee as his crouch to soften the blow. Noctis blinked at him, thanked him, and rushed off to finish mister-flames-of-fire himself. 

Prompto was just glad he didn’t ask how he knew he was going to be thrown.

(Maybe that's his anxiety speaking.)

And things happened again, as soon as they defeated Ifrit he was on guard again and moved away from the middle of the clearing. Ignis was far enough in the back that he wasn’t hurt but Gladio was already heading his way to grab Iggy and lead him to Noct.

Which he didn’t get that far as Bahamut appeared in the skies once more and trapped the god in a field of swords. Prompto himself could only gulp in fear over such a god like him.

(But another part of him hated him. Hated him for giving a prophecy that will end the life of his best friend.)

So they fought and fought, flames and fire burned his coat, scorched his hair, ashes on his face, but he shot bullet after bullet, knowing what to do in order to bring the god to his knees. 

He saw how Ignis was leaping and running, not once had his head tilted his way to indicate he was worried for him. Gladio swung his sword with ease, coming in to save Noct and Ignis a few times before going back to use his shield to block. Not once did he have to protect him. Noctis was… different. He seemed to glance more at Prompto, searching for him before going back to wrapping at the god at hand. He would have chalked it up that he was suspicious of him, but he also glanced back at Ignis and it clicked that he was still watching out for them.

(Except last time he didn’t do that. He only focused on killing Ardyn, to focus on the Daemons, to focus on running to his death like it didn’t mean anythi-!)

In the end, Shiva came again (was it again? He doesn't know anymore) and he watched her blow a storm of snow before giving him a kiss on his ice cold lips.

Prompto just watched, knowing not to interfere with the gods come into the show.

What he didn’t expect though was the soft silver sweet voice echoing the empty palace. 

“Rest, my love. May your soul know peace at last. King of Kings, the grace of the gods is with you always.”

He felt his jaw drop. 

Wha-WHAT! First, the Gentiana thing where she was talking about a task about Kings of something and now he is hearing the Astrals voice?! Like not strange echos and static noises that Noctis seem to understand?!

Wha-What in the ever living Astrals is going on here!

“I made a promise… one I intend to keep.”

Snapping out of mental panic, Prom quickly saw that Noctis’ eyes were fading from a bright pink to his normal crystal blue once more as he spoke into the air. His back was facing him but he picked himself anyways and cleared his expression before either Gladio or Noctis could see him and notice the shock and surprise on his face cause how could he understand an Astral?!

He needs a break, a nice long break.

(Somehow, he knew that wasn’t the case. He won’t get a break, not the one he wanted at least.)

(His neck is suddenly too stiff.)

(His jaws tighten.)

(Somethings wrong.)

(What is happening here?)

(Is this a dream?)

(Or is this reality?)

Noctis walked on ahead and the three of them followed him. It wasn’t until he was halfway through the stairs that he realized something. 

He didn’t ask Noctis what Shiva said.

(“What did she say?”

“Told me to bring back the light.”

“That’s our next stop.”

“On we go.”)

But I guess he didn’t need to.

No one noticed.

He doesn't know if that's a bad thing or not.

He refused to say anything and tucked on.

But then the sense of the unknown happened again and the next thing he knew, that they all knew, was that they were battling the Kings of Yore!

They were trying to fight the bad guy here, hello? They did not need to fight more Kings then they should thank you very much. What made it even more wrong with fighting Kings that Noctis borrowed their weapons from was that they had a mist of purple around them. He was glad that he managed to kill the Rouge before it did touch him, best yet kill him. He felt sick every time he was near that magic, that purple inky black magic. 

Heaving after giving the final shot he had his knees bent, head in between. 

“Take it easy,” Noctis requested.

Automatically, his mouth moved before he could catch his words. “What kind of friend would I be if I ‘took it easy’ when you’re in trouble? I’ll be fine. Let’s keep moving.”

(“You always say that, but please, tell us when you need help. ‘I’m fine' isn’t going to cut it anymore you know.”)

He didn’t see the frown on his face or the plea in his eyes or the way his fist shook. He was still gasping for breath. What he did see was his newly dirty shoes walking by past him and the feeling of a hand patting on his shoulder.

He gulped.

When was the last time he ever did that for him? He think it was when they rescued him, when they had that talk in that in closed space all to themselves. He remembered promises and words of warmth and how close he was to telling him his feeling for him…

_Ever by your side._

It was the closest he could get to a confession at the time. 

(Now he never will.)

(All he could do was keep the promise.)

No one said anything till they fought the Mystic, all three of them putting their moves into weakening the first King before Noctis came and wrapped strike him out. Their battle with the Kings was done.

(He wondered why the battle of Kings didn’t happen in his dream.)

(He didn’t get an answer but it stuck with him.)

It wasn’t until they were at the door that he felt like crying. 

“Prompto. Can I see your photos?”

He couldn’t breathe, he was drowning. 

He remembered this - dreamt! - he knew what he meant.

He hoped it wasn’t what he thought he meant and licked his lips with a nervous laugh. “Uh.. yeah!”

“I just need one… to take with me.”

His breath hitched and he could already feel his eyes water in a glossy look.

“Oh… Yeah, I get it,” his whispered because he knew if he tries to speak any high he was going to beg him to stay. “Um… You can take whichever you like.”

He took pride in making sure his voice didn’t crack but he could tell it didn’t work on them. He felt Ignis drawing circles on his back, Gladio having his hand over his wrist as a comforting gesture while Noctis grazed his hands ever so often. 

(Everything was wrong wrong wrong.)

When Noctis stopped he looked away from Gladio’s hand to see Noctis staring at a photo at hand. He didn’t see the photo or what he picked (he didn’t see the photo in his dreams either because it’s a dream and there was no way it was going to happen again cause everything was different, it’s really just his imagination). He could see Noctis’ eye change but he didn’t want to go, not yet. “Then it’s settled. That’s the one? No backsies?”

He meant the photo but could feel in the back of his mind that wasn’t the case.

(Stay… don’t go. Please don’t leave me behind, please. I can’t lose you, you’ll die. Just don’t leave me behind please-!)

“Yeah.”

His heart shattered.

He didn’t show it.

What was the point? He made up his mind. There was no going back.

( **WHywhyWHywhywHYwhYWhy!** )

He looked down when the door opened.

They were almost at the front when he looked up.

He wished he hadn’t.

(They're there, they're there! Wha- nonononNOnonON **OOONONONO!** Gods no! This isn’t right! It was a dream, it was a dream! So why are they there?! WhywhywhywhYWHYW **HYWHYWHY ~~WHYWHY-!~~** )

He was glad it’s been hours since he last ate.

“I’m afraid you’re out of luck. The throne brings you here? It seats only one.”

It’s not real.

“Off my chair, jester. The king sits there.”

Why is this repeating?

“Oh, Noct… How I have waited for this. Longer than you could ever know.”

Could...could it be...

“Tonight, the dreams of the blood royal... come to an end.”

No...wait no! Darkness in the form of magic aimed for him and struck his cheat. Vaguely he could hear the surprise and grunts of both Ignis and Gladio before he went down and darkness fell again.

He was alone.

(The throne…)

How did this happen?

(Bodies…)

He remembered this.

(Chains…)

This...this happened before….

(Death to all….)

What… why's this happening again?

(His cheats felt lighter…)

What's going on?

(He’s running outside…)

It was a dream at first.

(There he was….)

But now that's not true, is it?

(Noct…)

This happened before.

(“It’s all you.”)

How did it happen?

(“No turning back now.”)

Why is this happening?)

(“Walk tall… My friends.”)

Who did this?

(“Majesty.”)

A shot to his right.

(Prompto thought it was just a dream.)

Another behind him.

(An uncanny and very realistic dream.)

Two quick rapid fires.

(But that was when he woke up in the inside of the tent the four used to share during their journey, when he was all but dizzy from sleep.)

Something hit him. His neck felt wrong. He went down

(Now here he was, dead by the same Daemon that killed him in his dreams. Expect this time he was feeling a strange sense of deja vu.)

His jaws were set. He could hear someone calling out his name.

(Did he not go through this before?)

He fell into darkness once again that night.

/+\x/+\

The world survived.

The land was ruled by no royal blood.

They never did see the dawn.

They all gather after their fall.

All but one was there.

Where was he?

/+\x/+\

Divine of …… essence

….that of wha…….at…..be…needed…

I…..order of……...ig…..t of stone

…..n…….ple…….six..

……...os…wish….f…….me…...pass..

Sa……..l…..uc……..ill

…..he…...on……...f…..nom..

..do………..ha……...id…...one

...id……….nge………..ist

….re…...r...s…….va…..igh..

...es…...h…….old……….y

…..and….ks……..di…..

…...l….bl…….mpio…..


	3. Dawn of the Future (+ Ignis Alternative Ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another way, another try.
> 
> Its another life isn't it.
> 
> He won't accept it, he won't admit it.
> 
> But as everything that was going their way, why does it still feel wrong.
> 
> Wrong wrong wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order to change everything for the better one has to see both sides of the coin: both the good and bad.
> 
> So for the original time line to be the quote on quote "bad ending" here, we need to have a "good ending" as well.
> 
> Que the use of both Ignis not being blind, Ravus living, Luna coming back to life, Ardyn dying and in peace with Area, having the Empires sole Heir alive, no one dies, Bahlyed being reviled and killed, and a wedding that was always meant to happen. This is what most will say, quote on quote, a "good ending".
> 
> Also I'm not that good when it comes to the story line of Dawn of the Future so bear with me. Gods this whole chapter was 37 pages for me. Hope none of you mind the long chapter.
> 
> Of course I'm not going to stop there and make this a happy ending because even the most prefect sineros have to have a bad shadow trailing it. Que, Noctis marrying Luna. 
> 
> …..So with the tag I have up will not make a lot of sense will it if the story ended like this now would it.
> 
> Yay.....

He opened his eyes slowly. His body felt drowsy and his head felt funny. Half lid eyes only looked up, looking but not really seeing.

He felt weak. He wasn’t in pain or anything, just tried. His legs felt like jello and he can’t really feel his arms or hands. Cotton filled his head with nothing but blurry thoughts and half-finished words as he tried to make sense of the situation.

Where…?

What was…?

….

-rem….

A...dream…

A dream?

When…?

How…?

His neck….

Snap…

A snap…

Wha…

Prompto was lost in his thoughts, or in this case, trying to make a clear thought when his ears picked up on the noticeable sound of fabric rustling.

Drooping eyes opened slightly and his body flinched from the sound. 

Gladio…?

Ignis…?

Noct…?

Who….?

“You're awake.”

Yes, he thought, a bit of annoyance over who stated the very obviously miner detail that was him. He tried to open his mouth, more of a habitable instinct to remark rather than his mind using him to but all he managed to get out was a weakened grunt.

….guess he was tired.

Seeing as he couldn’t put whatever he wanted to say into words, he opted for a glare. If he couldn’t speak, maybe his point will come across in facial expression instead.

He moved his head, only realizing mid-turn that his neck was stiff. His mouth curled down from this feeling, making him feel funny but he ignored that as he has an even more important task at hand.

Whoever said that still needs to know he did not appreciate the sentiment of an obvious fact. 

“Stop that. You're only making it worse on yourself.”

A small huff escaped his lips but he did as told. Fine then! He won’t move at all. It wasn’t like his neck was killing him or anything, he will just stay like this. Unmoving, untouchable, wavering and weak and-

…..wait

Who...whose voice was that?

Its sound embarked an echo in his mind, screaming at him but for what he doesn't know why, head still too misty for him to make sense of anything at all.

“.....Go back to sleep.”

...well.

As a voice that his head was screaming at him to...to...to do something about was right next to them and has yet to see their face raised an alarm in his head. Warning bells and red sirens were whistling and telling him to find out whoever this person is and get out of there as quickly as possible.

Yet, the thought of leaving and running from this person made his chest ache and a painful squeak makes him reconsider. He shifted uncomfortable and relaxed into his previous position from before. Something about the thought of leaving didn’t feel right to him. For some reason, a pit in his stomach opened and emptiness came upon him at the mere thought of trying to getaway. 

Head screaming and chest squeezing he let go of the thoughts in his half cooperated mind and relaxed. As soon as he did his chest no longer gave him pain and any worry over who was speaking to him was all but erased.

Prompto closed his eyes and didn’t wake up again that night filled sky.

/+\x/+\

“Ignis! Where are you?”

“Noct! Iggy!”

“Noct!”

“Iggy!”

“...huh?”

“Noct….but where’s….”

“Ardyn.”

“Wha...Ravus.”

“Quickly, before it’s too late to save your friend.”

“Uh, right!”

(He was running, Noct in his arms as he all but dragged him away. Away from the ruins and graveyard of the last Oracle but not her last bloodline. There is still hope)

“...ugh.”

“Noct!”

“You're awake.”

“What….happened…”

“The city….”

“Luna...No no Luna!”

“Pryna…”

“Noct… we can’t stay here.”

“What in the- why the hell not!”

“Ardyn has Ignis.”

“Huh...Ravus…”

“Leave my sister to me.”

“No no, I-”

“Noct! We have to get to Iggy.”

“.....alright.”

“Luna….I’m sorry…”

“...”

“Ravus, you-”

“Hurry already. Whatever you need to say can wait. Your friend can not.”

“Right… Let’s go.”

(He looked, once more, just one more time at the canine that helped him. That loved him, one that he loved back. 

And her owner, which was carried away by her last kin of blood, was the last thing he saw before Noct pulled him away.)

“Ignis!”

“...Noct?”

“But how…?”

“Ravus. He lent us a hand, if you can believe it.”

“...What the hell were you thinking?”

“How could we let this happen?”

“How could _I_ let this happen? This is all my fault.”

“Noct…”

“If I’m really some kind of savior, then why can’t I save the ones I love?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You guys have stayed with me this whole time...and all it’s done is caused you pain.”

“Not anymore. All that ends now.”

“Please… Lend me your strength! Help me protect my friends!”

(He was blinded, the light was too much. Dark azul blue, one that matched Noctis’ eyes, faded into a white that he could not see through. Against his better judgment, he closed them.

That was the last time he saw pale skin, midnight hair, and crystal eyes.)

“...ugh...what…”

“You're awake.”

“Iggy!”

“Gladio? Prompto?”

“Yeah, we're here.”

“...Noct?”

“....”

“I…. see..”

(He didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. Using his right hand, his gloved right hand, he covered Ignis with his own. A few seconds came before Gladio’s envelope both of theirs. No one spoke but what was there to be said?) 

“Where’s Iggy?”

“Talking to Marshall and the rest. He wanted to be the one to explain to them what happened.”

“I-Will he be okay?”

“No, but this is Ignis were talking about. He’s stronger then he looks.”

(Prompto didn’t argue, but still, he watched his older friend speak with one of the last of the original King’s guards. 

Made him look down at his Crownsguard’s outfit.

Made him wonder why they were still wearing them when there was no King left.)

“Bye, ya’ll. And take care ya' hear.”

“We will! Bye Cindy!”

(The three left, a walk in silence that was too loud for all three of their ears. His feet ache and sweat was building on his forehead already, but none of them complained. 

They didn’t want to ride their car when her owner wasn’t there.)

“So you want me to make an article?”

“Yes. We have to let all of Eos know what is happening and the dangers that are to come. Or in this case, already happening.”

“Please Vyv! I’ll take as many pictures as you want!”

“You don’t even need to ask. Of courses, I will.”

(He sighed as Ignis, Gladio, and Vyv talked about what was to be said and done. Talking about the fate of the world and what will soon come and the danger of the dark as the hours of sunlight grow thinner and thinner each passing day. Now there were only four hours of sunlight left.)

“Hmm… so, what you call me in for? I still have plenty of refugees to move you know.”

“Sorry to take much of your time Mrs. Highwind.”

“Aranea. No Mrs. Highwind got it.”

“Right.”

(Prompto bounced in energy, waiting and waiting before Aranea looked over his way and gave a small scoff. His shoulders dropped before rising when the silver haired woman waved him over as an invite.)

“Gladdy. Is Noctis really…”

“Yeah…”

(Iris didn’t move. Having to hear such a thing from her brother must be hard, had to be hard as she all but cried into the former shield’s arms.

But it wasn’t anything compared to what he went through, Prompto thought as he looked away.)

“Huh...hey its Ravus.”

“Prompto.”

“Sorry sorry! I didn’t know you two were staying together?”

“May as it be this is stable for both are commendations.”

“Agreed.”

“Wow, it's like having another Ignis around.”

“No kidding…”

(Still, he drank the tea, dried up flower petals that had reserved their taste for him. Silently he sat alongside Gladio as he listened to the keys of the piano playing with the last of the sun rays going down behind the horizon.

It was now two hours of sunlight a day.)

“Prompto! What do you mean you're going back!”

“I have to! Don’t you see! Ravus almost died because they almost cut his arm!”

“To Niflheim? Where there are more Daemons out there than here?”

“Please Gladio, I want to do this. There's no one else that can.”

“The hell you are! You will be killed before you can even step foot there.”

“B-but I have to. I can’t just stand by anymore. I want to be useful.”

“You are not-”

“I will join you.”

“What no! You're supposed to stay here, Ravus. I’m supposed to be helping you.”

“You're not going to-”

“Do you really think he is that easy to kill?”

“No, but he can’t just walk up there by himself!”

“....If you had faith in me when Altissia fell then I see no difference in letting him leave for Niflheim.”

“...You.”

“Gladio, please… Let me do this.”

“...Check-in with Aranea. I better hear from her when you get there or I’ll be dragging both your asses back here!”

“I-thank you Gladio.”

“Just get here in one piece.”

(Prompto grinned but grimmed at the sight of the metal arm that Ravus almost got cut off from his body. A lifeline they found out, as it was connected to his heart in a way. If it were to be damaged, so was he. 

No one knew what the arm did or how it worked besides copying the action of his right arm. No one knew how to work Magitek technology, not even the High Commander himself because as much as he used them he never knew how MT’s work.

No one but Prompto knew, no one but Prompto knew where to go and fix the damage that is done.

And he hated it. But he will do it, do it to save someone else who was never meant, never made to be like them. To be like him.)

“-nd this would happen, of course, this would happen, as so as we step inside the fucken cavern because of course this would happen!”

“...Are you done?”

“Yup.”

“Then could you move so that I may grab our dinner.”

“Uh-oh! Sorry about that, here just let me…”

(Prompto moved away from the bag, letting Ravus make a grab for it while he fixed the small fire they had to heat the cans of food they had at hand. Humming, he waited for Ravus to give him the cans and took a quick peek at the labels on them.

Two cans of cold beans.)

“Nea!”

“Ah, Shortcake. Haven’t grown a bit, I see.”

“Hey!”

“...Highwind.”

“Ah shit, it's the High Commander. Still sour as a grape I see.”

“Wait...you know each other?”

“Niflheim army, remember?”

“Ah…. right…”

(Seeing the shift, Aranea walked away, calling two men he remembers were Biggs and Wedge. Both Prompto and Ravus stayed on spot before Ravus eventually shook his head and walked on. Prompto scrambled to catch up to him as he tried not to be left behind.

Only a few minutes of sunlight was left.)

“Aranea? What is this time? You don’t usually call unless-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to drop-kick your ass any time soon. Just to let you know that Shortcake made it here. Said that you wanted to know.”

“Is he safe?”

“No ones safe, but he’s in one piece. Along with that High Commander of his.”

“Ravus?”

“Whatever you call him sure.”

“Thanks, I’ll take it from here.”

“You better.”

(Gladio hanged up, looked at the blank screen of his phone, before pocketing it.)

“Is this it?”

“I think so? Nea did say that it was in the middle of nowhere so I guess?”

“Then perhaps it's best to find a way in. Abandon it may be, it still a facility for Magitek.”

“Right, so no front door.”

(Eyes skimming at the walls of the building, they both had no idea that the front door was only open to the use of codes imprinted into the machines known as MT’s.)

“Look! A vending machine!”

“Here?”

“I know right! Man, I hope this stuff is still good enough to drink because I’m thirsty.”

“And how do you suppose you will get it out?”

“Uh… we shot the lock?”

“...”

(Prompto sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. Or tired too, the layers of clothing Aranea gave him made it hard for him to do such a simple action but was sure as hell handy when it came to shooting Daemons and MT’s they encountered. Taking out his handgun he looked over at Ravus who, a man of few emotions, gave him a depanned stare.

He didn’t say anything when he was handed a can of Ebony though, the echo of gun bullets ringing in his ears.)

“MT’s… they were once human creations as well. It makes sense. Daemons are not made unless affected by the Starscourge.”

“Yeah….”

“We should collect these recorders. We need everything we can get from here as quickly as possible.”

“R-right…”

(Prompto rubbed his gloved wrist. Out of everything he wore, he did not take off his wristband.

He was glad he didn’t.)

“So all this time… this is what the Empire created.”

“....”

“Let us go. We still have one more to infiltrate.”

“Ok….”

(They left the room, dark cold, and erie. It was hard to see, and Prompto would have tripped himself if it wasn’t from the small bit of light in the room.

The light that came from a tub of green fluids that held a decaying body of a hairless teenager inside.)

“Quickly! Grab one and start it!”

“Wha- what about you!”

“Just do it!”

“Ok ok, shit! Shit, come on….come one…”

“Argentum!”

“Fuck….shi-Got it!”

“Start it!”

(The air was filled with so many sounds. Explosions, gunshots, the rumbling of the earth, a cackle of a maniac, and the purr of a snowmobile as both blondes took off.

A monster was coming after them.)

“To think this is what my creation had become. Nothing but a failure.”

“Shut up!”

“Failures such as you, creations that are not even worth living should not speak back to his creator.”

“Shut! Up! I am not your creation. I’m not an MT!”

“No your not… not anymore”

“Uh-Aghhhh!”

(White white white. Everything was too bright, too bright. A ring was in his ears and the spouting words of a man he never knew he hated till now were looming over him. 

White white white. Everything was too loud, so loud. He could hear nothing but failure, failure, failure. He failed, he failed, he failed.

White white white. Everything was fading, fading away. He can see, white was white and no other color mixed in to change it all.

It was too bright, it was to quite, shot after shot, something coming, touching him, holding him-

Black black black. The sun was gone.

And so was he)

/+\x/+\

Opening his eyes this time required no effort at all. They flutter and blinked. Sleep was still lingering in his gaze but nothing he could bat away with each flutter. 

He yawned.

Disoriented and sluggish, but not clouded with blurry images and cotton in his head, he slowly rests his elbows in position and pushed himself up.

That was a mistake.

Pain bursted on his sides, his whole right arm and stomach burned as he yelped and dropped down with a small oof.

That was when he also found out that dropping down was also a big ‘no-no’.

Because as it turned out, he was sleeping on the hard floor of a haven, which, while covered by a layer of wool, was not thick enough for him to not feel the rocky surface. That, in turn, made him hiss out and make white spots swim across his vision.

Perhaps he should have stayed asleep, then he wouldn’t have to feel like he was beaten and shot at by a fu-

“Stop moving. You would only make your injuries that much worse.”

Unnecessary but hinted advice, Prompto stopped moving. He breathed in sharp rashes, the pain still more than he could bear. It felt like a burn added with the effects of something poking at him and digging deeper into him every time he moved. The pain that was un-noticed upon awakening was now a firestorm expanding.

He was still in the middle of breath when something cold touched him.

Startled, he yelped, jumped before sighing in relief. Whatever had touched him was lessening the burn significantly and felt even more relieved when the cold touch moved from his shoulder down to his arm. It took a moment longer to realize that his forehead was cooled down as well, making the white spots fade away with its chilling touch.

Prompto smiles and leaned into the touch. It was nice, gratitude was poking at him to say something, to thank whoever had helped him. Turning his head to his right, he opened his mouth to give a proper thank you.

“Than-”

He choked.

Now one might think it would have been from the dryness of his throat, an effect from not drinking in that last 24 hours. Some would say it's from the pain that was still burning him as he tried to speak. While they may be good guesses, they were wrong.

Face scrunched up and throat squeezing shut, all he could do was gasp at Ravus as he left to grab a cup full of water heating over the fire before bringing it to him.

“Drink, conserve your energy, and don’t argue.”

“Rav-” He was coughing again.

Ravus made a displeased sound before helping him up slightly during his coughing fist. As soon as he was done, he moved the cup to hover over his lips. Prompto, in normal circumstances, would not have taken the water from his hands. Ravus was suspicious, he was a High Commander, he hurt Gladio, he hated Noct.

(He gave him the sword, he loved Luna, he waited for Noct to act like a true King, he became a Daemon and begged for death.)

But he was too thirsty, his throat too dry to ignore as he gulped down the warm water eagerly to quench his thirst and dryness. It burned a little, to have water over his dry throat but he ignored it. Eventually all the water was gone, his throat no longer closing in on itself but still too rough for him to speak clearly.

He didn’t realize that Ravus left to get more water for him to drink, only felt the plastic on his lips before he gulped down the liquid eagerly. Finally when the last drop was gone he felt he could breathe again.

Ravus saw this and a small tap sounded as he placed down the cup on the rocky surface.

Prompto looked at him, at Ravus. A man he never knew till he saw him hold a sword at Noctis throat, a promise of death if he ever so much as say the wrong words. But here he was, giving him water and caring for him for whatever reason.

With his mind cleared, questions started to arise.

“Who-why are you here?"

Ravus didn’t look surprised but Prompto sure was. Looking him in the eye he said, “No surprise you might have forgotten as such. Your head was hit numerous times.” He sighed like he was told to do an unwanted task and continued. “I came on my own free will. If you were to come and examine the files that were necessary for me then it's only common sense to go as well.” He paused before asking his own question. “What do you remember?”

Prompto frowned.

What does he remember? 

(Divine of ….. essence)

There were Daemons.

(Walk tall… My friends.)

Something with purple magic.

(Task. Kings. Silver One.)

And something with Noctis in the throne room….

(Rest, my love.)

Throne rooms and chai-

He sat up so quickly he almost fell forward, his sides burning again. But he didn't care.

Noctis was dead, Noctis was killed. He failed again and again and again. What? It was a dream right? But it felt so real and a dream doesn't happen twice so this is reality right? But the gods and him falling down and Shiva when she spoke and- Shit! Luna was there she was still dead but then in the throne room she was hanging in chains and gods she was-

He stopped breathing all together.

(....lifeless with her brother right next to her, his hand reaching and reaching but never quite there…)

Ravus was dead. He was in chain and dead and his arm was gone and his clouded eyes only on Luna and he was reaching and reaching and - Oh gods he was dead he was de-

“-tum! Snap out of it!”

The blonde in question gasped, just now realizing that he was breathing too hard again. His eyes were blown wide and both hands were shaking as they formed into fist.

He was in shock. He had to calm down. But he can’t.

For the second time, he fell into darkness, questions floating in his mind.

/+\x/+\

_What happened? What was going on? Why is Ravus alive? Where was he? Wh….When was he? Who-_

“Another chance oh Silver One.”

_Wha-Who?! Where are you?!_

“Place and Soul do not matter, but Time.”

_I’m-m sorry?_

“Thus have past, it is best to complete the task that was handed to the Silver One.”

_….Wait...Shiva-?_

“The first exchange has been done, yet the ending has not. To rid this, we have deemed you worthy enough to change this closure with the love of your King.”

_King….Noctis….?_

“With my marking you may go so far. We will test you to see if this new fate is worthy of our strength. Finish the tasks at hand and what the world seeks will be corrected by your hands."

_I don’t understand? What do you mean? Fate? I don’t-_

“You are chosen to change what has been written in stone.”

_Chosen? Stone? But what-_

“When the time comes, all will be remembered. However all knowledge of your new life will come when needed. Go forth and change what we can not.”

_Wait! What do you mean?! What fate?! What knowledge?!_

_Please come back!_

_Come back!_

/+\x/+\

Third time he woke up it was instant. 

He jumped, his whole body jolting as he up right himself to no longer be down on his back. If he had remembered his last wake up calls he would know that he would have pulled on something and experience pain on his right. But this time there was no pain, only a sensation of numbness circled around his arms at random areas. Yet he did not feel nor care for it as he all but gasped for breath, sweat running down his forehead as he tried to stop his racing heart, trying to understand.

Understand what exactly he has no clue.

His wake up call alerted the other person in the room.

Ravus moved away from the fire he was feeding and moved closer to his patient. It's been a few days since they arrived at the haven and he was anxious to move. One to finally get the files back to Cid but to also restock on their lack of food and curatives. That and to move the boy. He won’t show it and he doesn't care to, but he would not let the boy die out here. Least he would be dead if he did so.

Prompto was scared, confined, conflixed and frustrated. 

What was happening? What was-

_He wanted to help save Ravus. He asked Gladio if he could go to Niflheim. He wanted to go back to the facilities they went through to find Ignis to see if there's anything to help remove the connection of Ravus’ arm from his heart. Gladio refused but surrendered after an argument with Ravus and him. Both Ravus and Prompto left and meet Aranea before going to the cold building of nightmares - his birthplace. There were MT’s but lots of weapons to choose from. They found recordings and files and plans. They found unfinished MT’s and codes just like his. They found Besithia’s body consumed by the Starscourge but his soul inside a machine - a monster. They fought him and ran into the snow as their battle field. They separated and Prompto got chased. Besithia knows who he is and mocked him - a failure. He yelled and yelled - no he is not an MT! Never was - before shooting at him. He shot and shot and shot but he could not hold him down much longer. He saw Ravus, his wrist is exposed and he could see his barcode as his father mocked mocked mocked him and attacked him and he fell before everything went black but Ravus saw he saw-_

Ravus saw.

Is that fine? No it's not! Only Noct, Iggy, and Gladio know after all and it took everything in him to go up to the scanner and he was so sure they would have turned their backs on him. Hell, he even thought that Noctis would have killed him on the spot. But they didn’t and he was so very grateful and glad and relieved but still…

He still has doubts that they accepted him. After all, he still could not accept himself. He may have his own will and purpose to go on, a reason to stay and be by his Kings side but he still can’t get over that purposeful feeling as if he was not meant to be there. That he was a mistake that weaved his way in his friends lives. That he wasn’t meant to exist.

(It’s not true it's not true it’s not true just please listen to me Prom-!)

_Ardyn took Ignis instead of him. He left Ignis to die but Noct asked the Crustal to save him and save he did but with the price of being absorbed into the Crystal and they just stood there with nothing else to do because how can they with Ignis (hurting)dying(healing) in front of them but Noctis was gone and he was gone gone gone-_

Noctis is gone.

_Nothing changed. Yet everything did. This was not like last time._

_“_ **_Th_ ** _~~Is i~~ S yO _ **_u_ ** **_r_ ** _th ~~i~~ _ ~~**_R_ ** ~~ ~~_D C_ **_h_ ** ~~ _OIce_ _. W_ _a_ **_t_ ** _C_ _h_ **_i_ ** **_t W_ ** _~~El~~ l _ _.”_

He felt sick. 

Prompto starred as thoughts and answers came into mind. Events that happen and yet they were not the same ones he remembered. Ravus is alive, not a Daemon. Ignis is blind but now he is not. Aranea is still his friend but she did help him when he was out in the wild. In fact he did not get pushed away, he was not taken or tortured with the fact of his birth(creation). They never knew, never knew till Ravus came and he saw(heard) what Besithia was telling him and how much of a failure he was from the MT creations. Everything is different but so much the same. Nothing was new but the end results were...

His breath hitched.

Did that mean that last time wasn’t a dream. When everything was so different but yet some parts were the same. So was everything he went through a lie? No it's too real to be a lie. Then what was it? Why was this happening again, why was it changing? Why is everything so-

A sob escaped his lips and he cried.

He cried for his future, one he doesn't know no more.

He cried for his friends, saved yet still trapped away.

He cried for the sun, welted away but knew what it will take to bring it back.

He cried and cried and cried.

Prompto might have kept on crying, lost in his wellows and confusion if it was for the cold touch of meatal on his skin.

Suddenly he remembered his time in captivity. 

(MT, chains and failures all round. This is what he was meant to be, he was nothing but a mistake, a rouge that got away from becoming the perfect weapon. He was not human, no name he given himself will ever make him human. The proof of that was the sting of numbers and dark lines on his right wrist.)

He didn’t scream but his heart jumped through his throat as he flinched away. All crying was silenced as he tried to get away from the metal arm. 

Yet the arm didn’t move away nor did it move along with him. Instead it hovered over in the air, not moving.

Still that didn’t help Prompto’s mind from thinking that the arm was unaturel. It was mechanical and tainted. He knew for a fact that that was an MT arm, one that could grab and rip him apart if so disarried. So he went for his gun, moved his hand up as he imagined the light of blue crystals and a silver barrel as he pointed to the MT and get away from him-!

Except no crystals appeared, no Quicksilver appeared, and that was no MT infront of him.

There was no light but from the fire behind him, Noctis was stuck in the Crystal from who knows where, Ravus kenneled before him as he paused to see what Prompto would do.

His eyes watered again and it all came back.

 _“_ **_Th_ ** _~~Is i~~ S yO _ **_u_ ** **_r_ ** _th ~~i~~ _ ~~**_R_ ** ~~ ~~_D C_ **_h_ ** ~~ _OIce_ _. W_ _a_ **_t_ ** _C_ _h_ **_i_ ** **_t W_ ** _~~El~~ l _ _.”_

His eyes watered but he did not cry.

He remembered. He remembered everything.

He let his hand fall down to his side and left it there as he stared at Ravus. 

He remembered. He remembered everything.

But doesn't know if he wanted to.

/+\x/+\

No one spoke but it didn’t seem to bother either of them. 

Ravus was a few steps ahead, his pack safely secured and his sword out and ready. His hair was left loose so every now and then he would move his hand up to bat away strains of white hairs from messing with his vision. Occasionally he would turn his body whenever he hears something in the winter woods but if the Daemon that hid did not come any closer he would walk on.

Prompto was behind him, a shoulders bag and a rifle gun on his back. His hands were full with a handgun in each, a silver and black. His coat was back on and the pain he once felt was gone. His injuries were healed enough for him to move around again, the holes in his skins healed and the burns all gone. The only thing that was left for show was the bandages that hid all his bruises, scratches, and barcode.

Prompto bit his lips nervously at that thought. 

In the last couple of hours, after being given time by Ravus to calm down he was told that they had to move. As it turns out, they have been living in the cavern covered haven for days now. How many they don’t really know but he could tell with the last minutes of sunlight coming and going a few times. But as soon as Prompto was able to stand they left. 

And they walked for hours. 

They walked and walked, past dark woods and a graveyard of airships. Once they came upon a group of MT’s that were left to rot. Snow was everywhere they went so they would never miss the sight of it. 

(His face was splattered on one. His own soulless eyes staring back before he blinked and denied it.

But the doubt lingers.)

But other than that no one came for them, no Daemons dare came at them, only the few lone Flan’s and Goblins that were foolish enough to do so.

So with much of their time walking Prompto was left to do a lot of thinking. 

He remembered, most clearly remembered, that he was fighting a horde of Daemons from getting close to Noctis inside the Citadel. Then he also remembered thinking that he was dreaming and having to go through that all over with more added events that did not happen in his dream. But then he also finds himself to be awake, alive, and clearly nowhere near the Citadel or his Glaives uniform or that he had Talcott call him to tell him that he found Noctis. No, instead he was walking in the snow with Ravus - a person he was 100% sure was supposed to be dead - and was in the first year of the ten years of darkness that he faced.

Nothing could explain to him what in the world was going on and he might as well as thought as himself going insane if it wasn’t from that dream.

_“Another chance oh Silver One.”_

_“Thus have past, it is best to complete the task that was handed to the Silver One.”_

_“The first exchange has been done, yet the ending has not. To rid this, we have deemed you worthy enough to change this closer with the love of your King.”_

_“With my marking you may go so far. We will test you to see if this new fate is worthy of our strength. Finish the tasks at hand and what the world seeks will be corrected by your hands.”_

_“You are chosen to change what has been written in stone.”_

_“When the time comes, all will be remembered. However all knowledge of your new life will come when needed. Go forth and change what we can not.”_

Prompto sighed.

It was Shiva he was sure. No one else had ever called him Silver One besides her and even then no one was around to over hear her.

So… what did he do to get an Astral to talk to him and give him a task? It was strange and inferating but whenever he tried to recall the dream he would remember it crystal clear. It is not a bad thing but he could remember every word and every emotion he felt when in that dark place. He didn’t know why and it only made him all that sacred, but it was the words that she said that made him truly frighten. 

_“Another chance oh Silver One.”_

Another chance? For what? 

He had thought this over and over and over but the only thing that helped him understand where the next few words she spoke of. 

_“With my marking you may go so far. We will test you to see if this new fate is worthy of our strength. Finish the tasks at hand and what the world seeks will be corrected by your hands."_

_“You are chosen to change what has been written in stone.”_

He was supposed to change fate. Or the prophecy itself. 

But that was insane! He did try to change it and it didn’t work! He tried to save Noct and stop him from killing himself to save the world! They all did. He even went to Niflheim to find out if the people that made him might know a way to stop the sacrifice of their best friend. But nothing, nothing in those buildings ever gave him any clues on how to change his friends fate besides plans of Daemonfied weapons and God slaying machines (which would explain a lot about how Ardyn was not scared of Shiva at all.) 

So if they couldn’t finger a way then how was he?!

Maybe he was wrong and that's not why he’s here. But then that would lead to another thing he remembered. 

_“When the time comes, all will be remembered. However all knowledge of your new life will come when needed. Go forth and change what we can not.”_

So know apparently, whenever he tried to remember anything from the last ~~two… two… lives? Tries? Two or one?~~ The last two tries he could, and would, remember everything just as crystal clear as the rest of the dream he had with Shiva speaking with him. It didn’t help at all. Not at all.

The only thing that he would say was helpful was that he knows why he was here with Ravus now. Which leads to a lot of good, bad, and uncertain things.

Good: Iggy’s not blind, the sun did not immediately disappear.

Bad: Ardyn is still out there, Noct is stuck in the Crystal.

Uncertain: Ravus is their ally, no one knew he was an MT.

Well... no one knew he was an MT till a couple of days ago. But now he found out in the middle of his memory searching that Ravus was apparently there when he was being told he was a failure of an MT.

So… while the thought of having an Astral apparently telling him that he was a ‘Silver One’, that he had a ‘Task’ to do, he would remember events he's not sure he even did, and added to the fact that he has to change what was ‘written in stone’. He would think that confronting with Ravus about being an MT is the least of his problem.

As of now. That dose not make it easy though and he sure as hell is lucky that he hasn’t died.

Yet.

He’s going to have a sword stuck in his back isn’t he?

But then again, because it is the least(not really) of his problems its best to do it anyways.

And as Prompto walks on, what was once the thought about the Goddess of snow was filled with the normal anxiety of a young adult who thought over the fact how he would confront the older man over who he truly was. 

Perhaps his friend might have accepted him but he had not accepted that part of him over the ten years(his whole life) he lived with that knowledge hanging over his head, so how will someone like Ravus accept someone like him?

In all of those mind filling ‘what if’s’ Prompto didn’t look hard enough through his memories to realize it was all in vain.

Ravus was his friend, he cared for him when in danger, and had heal him after the fact was revealed of his birth.

And the person in question had already accepted that part of him, just like he accepted the right side of him that will forever be made of metal. 

For he was the only other person in that world that could truly relate to what it was like to call your self inhuman.

It was in those years of darkness will that secret connect those two souls together.

(Further then they think.)

/+\x/+\

“You….saw…”

“Yes.”

“I… then why are you-”

“Helping you?”

“-not stabbing me yet?”

“Is there reason I should?”

“A-! What do you mean? I-its...I’m an MT!”

“Your point.”

“I’m supposed to kill you!”

“I would think a bullet would be no match for my blade when in this distance. Simply put, you would not stand a chance if you try to end my life. You’ll be dead in seconds”

“....well why aren’t you.”

“Killing you?”

“Yes! Don’t you see! I'm supposed to be your enemy!”

“....do you metal engraved in your skin?”

“Wha-what are you-?”

“Do you have metal engraved in your skin?”

“Well...no…”

“Do have the instincts to kill and destroy everything you touch?”

“No….”

“Do you bleed black and disappear in the light?”

“No.”

“So what makes you think you are an MT?”

“I-didn’t you hear? That man, _my father_ , was screaming about! Calling me a _failure_! I even have this fucken barcode to prove it! How could you think I’m not?!”

“Many reasons really. Despite the fact that most MT’s apparently stay dormant and were made from human clones. You say that you are a failure? A failure to the Empire perhaps but a valuable asset to His Majesty. You say you have a code to prove it yet its only ink on skin and bone. Not wires or metal. So tell me again just what is it exactly that makes you think you're a weapon used to attack all?”

“I….I don’t...I don’t know.”

“Then if you are not an MT then what are you?”

“..."

“See to that you think of that.”

“....Ravus. I-”

“Set wood in the fire Argentum.”

"Uh-Right!"

/+\x/+\

_The souls that are made of machine and man were a secret to the rest._

_No one knew what both had hidden._

_It was in the years had they become each other's safeguard, become their own kin over men and Daemon, for they are the onlys ones to be living proof of the horrors of the war._

_Years went on and both souls found a way to one of their own._

_The connection and secret become their safety line. Only those that were meant to protect knew the truth of the hidden one._

_Year one was the start of kin._

(“Thank you Ravus….”)

_Year two was their patience at wait._

(“Visiting again Prompto?” 

“Yeah, though I come by and see you two. You mind?”

“I certainly won’t say no to some company. But it seem like you would prefer Ravus won’t you?”

“I-thats-”

“It’s alright. I’ll just make some tea. I’ll be here Prompto.”

“Thanks Iggy.”)

_Year three was when the secret held weight._

(“Argentum?”

“Please, I don’t know if it’s the right choice but they are my brothers and it feels so _wrong_ to hold this against them and-”

“Is this what you want?”

“I...Yes. Yes, this-I want to tell them.”

“Then do as you will.”)

_Year four was when the hidden one broke._

(“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so so sorry….”)

_Year five was when they told a Dragoon, a woman of secrets of her own._

(“So this what your hiding huh?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? If you think it was for something your not then don’t bother.”

“But-”

“So are you helping me with the supplies or not?”

“Ah-wait! I’m helping, I’m helping!”)

_Year six was when they told the Hand and the Shield._

(“I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry I-”

“Hush Prompto. It’s ok now.”

“But-but I-”

“Kid, listen to Iggy. Shut up and listen. You're ok.”

“I-I-Waaaahhhhhh!”)

_Year seven when they told the Slayer of Daemons._

(“Is this what your scared of? Oh Prompto…”

“Yeah its… sorry…”

“Don’t be, never be sorry. Here...come here.”

“.....Iris?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Always.”)

_Year eight was the year of many, souls only they deem worthy and loved heard their secret._

(“It's ok. You're ok.”

“Come here hun. It’s all ‘ight. Just keep on k?”

“Does it matter? Not much.”)

_Year nine was when the hidden one left to find something from the beyond._

(“....Noct...Noct…”

“If its true… then…”

“You’ll come back…”

“And I will save you this time.”

“Promise.”)

_Year ten was when the hidden one came for he knew it was the time for another end._

_It was also the year the Oracle rose from the power of the heavens._

/+\x/+\

_A path is chosen, written in stone._

_Yet above from the heavens they only choose one._

_The future is never written, only guided and foretold._

_For there is never one path, but many ending and beginnings to see._

_A God has escaped, and influenced a path._

_His future is not a lie, but his prophecy was._

_Never was there one choice, never was a fate set in stone._

_His future was one of many, his fate was never true._

_No mortal will ever know, not one till her._

/+\x/+\

It was close to ten years now, every day that passed he could count and remember each one if he wished to. If he didn’t he could always push the thoughts and memories of them behind and just leave them there from him to pick up later. 

His mind was only on the arrival of his King. Days were counted as he walked his way back to Hammerhead, knowing that was where his King would be.

He was wrong.

He found his friends and more. He was met with Aranea, Biggs, Wedge, and a little girl - no, a woman - he spent time to know more in the last ten years, Solara. 

When he thought back, yes he had met and seen Sol, but not by much. Sol was always training, small, and around Biggs and Wedge more than she would be with Aranea. He only knew that she was taken under the wing of Aranea as one of the refugees she saved. He never questioned it till now.

Ever since he woke up in that haven in the cavern he was more attentive about everything. He knew Ignis was an advisor and helped those in Lestallum and Hammerhead but he never knew he was the one to sort and help house the people, the guards, and the hunters.

Gladio was a fighter and shield who helped and rescued many but he didn't know he would visit the old abandoned house in Cape Caem, thoughts of fixing it but never time to rebuild it.

Iris was an Amicitia and had training beforehand but he never knew how hard she had to train and fight for her right to become the well known Daemon Slayer.

He never knew but then again, he wouldn't bother to know if he never had another chance.

Life...try...thing...whatever.

The important thing is that he was so weld up in his own sorrows and pity that he didn’t see how the rest would drown their sorrows. 

(Does that make him a bad person?)

But after doing so he found out more about Sol, or Solara Aldercapt Antiquum.

And it wasn’t even Sol who told him but Aranea. 

Apparently it was Loqi who knew who she was and brought her to safety on the Emperor's orders to do so. From there, it was Aranea who raised her and helped her fight with them.

Sol doesn't know that he knew about her, only that he was a retinue to the late King.

(Sol, Sol, Sol. He will remember that.)

(Loqi only cares for his Empire, his home, not the weapons or Daemons they made. He truly did believe.)

(What else did he miss? What else did he not see?)

(What was hiding in the dark?)

(“ _E_ v- m o- **er** **_Y_ ** **_-er th_ ** **_-_ ** _T_ hI- e n y-n- ou k n- **G** **-** **ow**!”)

But right now it doesn't matter.

(It matters it matters it matters.)

Noct is not there.

Talcott did not find him.

Sol did.

And Sol was dropped off with Noct.

Who was going to meet Lady Lunafreya and stop Ardyn.

(But she was dead so how-)

(He is the enemy but why-)

(-are they here?)

It doesn't make sense, it doesn't make sense.

(But then what ever has.)

/+\x/+\

“Noct!”

Noct is here Noct is here Noct is here.

“You guys!”

But he is being attacked.

“Get down!”

By Bahamuts. The God who helped them. The God who gave back Noct. The God who they trusted.

“Prompto! Gladio!”

The God who took Noct away. The God who wanted him dead. The God who is using them…

“Take Luna.”

“Wha-but!”

“I have to go!”

“No! Noct!”

Was the God who took his everything.

He will never forgive him.

/+\x/+\

_You are hereby cordially invited to the wedding of the Oracle Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae and His Majesty King Noctis Lucis Caelum of Lucis._

/+\x/+\

This was it…. Right?

/+\x/+\

_Welcome all to the ceremonial start of her Highness, the new Empress, Lady Solara Aldercapt Antiquum’s coronation._

/+\x/+\

The sun is up…. Noctis is alive…

/+\x/+\

_In a new state affair, all ties to the lands that the former Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt had invaded were now released from their ties and are being rebuilt by the efforts of their people._

/+\x/+\

Lady Lunafreya is alive….. Ardyn was never a traitor…. Bahamut wanted all of Eos dead…

/+\x/+\

_News was released that the Oracle, Queen Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Lucis, will give birth to the new heir in six months time._

/+\x/+\

Everything is the way it should be…. So why….

Why does he feel like something is wrong?

/+\x/+\

_“_ ** _Th_** _Is i_ _S yO_ ** _u_** **_r_** _th_ _i_ **_R_** _D C_ ** _h_** _OIce_ _. W a_ ** _t_** _C_ _h_ ** _i_** **_t_** ** _W_** _El_ _l .”_

/+\x/+\

“What! What do you mean he’s gone!”

“That I’m afraid I do not know.”

“Got to hand it to him, the Blondie sure didn't leave any traces of him behind.”

“Have you asked the staff?”

“Yes. It appears Prompto must have left in the dead of night. Not one has seen any signs of him since yesterday afternoon.”

“So he could be gone almost a whole day!?”

“Calm down Your Majesty. I’m sure we will find him in time.”

“How much time?"

“Well… if there was no sighting of him since the afternoon it’s clear to say that he may be well away from Insomnia’s borders.”

“Ou-He’s could be outside!”

“Your Majesty please calm down.”

“I. Am. Calm!”

**_Slam!_ **

/+\x/+\

Prompto looked at the water that splashed on the boat, mindless in thought. While he could hear the passengers walking by and talking with one another he ignored them all, all in favor over the land he would soon arrive at.

Not once had he looked at the land he left.

Something was wrong.

/+\x/+\

“Heya Prince! Or should I say King?”

“Cindy, good to see you.”

“I reckon it is. So tell me, what brought you down here your Majesty.”

“His Majesty and ourselves were searching for Prompto. We hope that you would enlighten us if you might have seen him.”

“Prompto? Can’t say I have. If he did, he might have hopped on one of them buses that take locals out to Galdin Quay. It’s been mighty popular with refugees coming and going since the sun came up.”

“Galdin Quay? Wait you mean he could leave Lucis!”

“Do you think that might be possible?”

“I would say so, most of the buses leave there. But I’m not sure it would be if he didn’t leave. Say, why did Prompto leave in the first place?”

“I don’t know. He never did show or act on any explosive behavior. None of the staff or ourselves could figure out why he would.”

“Well I’ll keep an eye out. Sure could spread the word and keep our ears out if we find any signs of him. I wouldn't say he could leave Lucis but if he didn’t I’ll be the first to hear, if he still is around.”

“Thank you Cindy.”

“Anything for our favorite King.”

/+\x/+\

The snow was the same as last time, wet, cold, and a heavy weight that was pulling him down with all the secrets he has rattling in his mind.

He only moved the scarf over his mouth higher, trying to look on ahead as the stillness of the snowy plains engulfed him.

Something was wrong, he needed to find it. He needed to find it.

/+\x/+\

“Where is he!”

“Noct, I’m sure if you could calm-”

“I am calm Specs! Just tell me if they found him yet.”

“...Very well. As of right now, no one has seen any sightings that might connect us to Prompto. I have connected with the Empress and our mercenary friend to see if they have heard of any surprise visits from Prompto. No signs of him were confirmed other than a description of a man that is just like him climbing aboard the boat to Altissia.”

“So the kid really did leave. Why the hell would he leave for Altissia?”

“Why the hell would he leave the Castle at all!?”

“Noct please ca-”

“Specs this is as calm as I’m going to get so don’t try telling me to calm down again!”

“...Not far from what was needed to be said but I was going to suggest is that His Majesty would like to aboard the next boat to Altissia in four hours or call in Cid to borrow the Royal Vessel.”

“....Cid.”

“Very well, I’ll start the arrangements.”

“Iggy.”

“Yes Noct.”

“Thanks.”

“Always.”

/+\x/+\

The building was a ruin now, nothing was as clean or as polished as it used to be. Walls were dented and smashed apart, ceilings were missing and metal remains of MT’s that used to house here were left behind. It was nothing like the house of horrors it used to be ten years ago. Then again, he wasn’t the same person two lifetimes ago.

Still… something was wrong and it's here.

It has to be.

/+\x/+\

“-ank you. I’ll be sure to relay the message to His Majesty.”

**_Beep!_ **

“Well?”

“It appears Prompto left for Niflheim on train before seen leaving the opposite of any means of civilization.”

“So kid just left all this way to leave to the middle of nowhere?” 

“As unorthodox it is yes that is exactly what he did.”

“So Prompto is in the middle of nowhere?!”

“Well yes but there is a place he might be headed to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well Ms. Highwind did mention a certain mission with His Majesty Ravus Nox Fleuret.”

“Shit...you mean the kid left for there?”

“It appears so.”

“What do you mean mission and with Ravus of all people? Specs wha-”

“It has appears we have much to tell you Noct, but please hold any questions until after I get us three tickets to the next ride over.”

/+\x/+\

Something is wrong yet it feels so right.

The room half filled with destroyed machinery, the walls open to the outside snow and roars of wind were heard with sheets of snow coming in to cover the floor. Nothing was there, nothing was worth coming here and everything is wrong about it.

But there was a single jewel of ice, resting in a blanket of snow. Untouched and alone.

Somehow this was needed. This is what would make everything right.

Something is finally right but why does it feel so wrong.

/+\x/+\

“So an MT facility.”

“Yes. Both Ravus and Prompto went on a search to find a way to disconnect the connection on His Majesty's arm to his heart. The mission was fruitful but the places they had to infiltrate were not as pure. Nor its origins.”

“What do you mean?”

“MT’s, as said, were made from the productions of Daemonized humans but those humans were clones of the head of the MT project.”

“So not only did they use Daemons but clones too!?”

“Bear in mind that while they are clones, none of them were ever given the chance to to be anything other than weapons of war.”

“All but one.”

“What do you mean Gladio?”

“...Noct, has Prompto… has he ever told you about his wrist?”

“No...why? What's with that face? Is there something you're not telling me?!”

“Shit Iggy, he doesn't know.”

“So it appears.”

“What don’t I know? What is it you're keeping from me?! Ignis wha-”

“Noct you need to sit down.”

“No! Tell me what it is I don’t know or-!”

“Princess sit down, you're going to need it.”

“...there now tell me.”

Sigh “Very well. But please bear in mind we had no idea that you were not informed.”

“Yeah so don’t go blowing up to us.”

“Alright.”

/+\x/+\

The jewel was cold but that was expected, it's so cold it feels almost warm against his bear hand. 

His gloves were off, so was his hat and goggles. He even unzipped his jacket all the way. 

He was freezing yet he didn’t want to go.

He was waiting for the sun to go down. It won’t feel right if the sun was up.

Clutching on the cold warm jewel he closed his eyes as he watched the dusk.

Something was… something was…

Why was he here again?

/+\x/+\

“It’s getting dark out.”

“Well good thing the Daemons are gone. Just turn on the headlights and go.”

“Really Noct?”

“It’s Prompto.”

“He managed to survive out there once I think he will again.”

“He was seen carrying nothing on him.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Headlights it is then.”

/+\x/+\

So cold…. Dark….

Why is he cold…. Wasn’t he….

….no he left…..somewhere….

Why…..

….

That's right… something….something was wrong….

He’s so cold….he wants to go back...back home…

Yet….he has to stay… he has to…

He has to.

/+\x/+\

“Is this the place?”

“From what Ravus said but this place looks like shit.”

“Gladio.”

“Not sorry.”

“Ugh. Well in any case, turn on your lights. We don't know what sort of creatures are making their homes in here.”

“Right.”

/+\x/+\

Cold….cold….so cold….

Can’t…. Can’t…

He can’t…..

/+\x/+\

The eternal kiss was placed on his lips. Not from a god but the winds of snow that grazed his face as he slumbers for all eternity.

His breath was stone from him, as well as his third life.

But no one knew that but him and a Goddess that had bestowed her mark on him.

/+\x/+\

“Is that…”

“Prompto! No no no Prompto!”

“Shit…. Shit!”

“This can’t be…”

“Prompto come on, wake up! Wake up! Please Prompto! Please….”

“Iggy is he….”

“....”

“No… no….”

“Promptoooooo!!”

/+\x/+\

The world was saved, fumbled, and fixed.

Everything was no longer coated, all lies were revealed into the light.

Yet as all the pieces were shown not all were put in place.

As a consequence the world took one of the Kings' beloved.

His soul, barely mended, was shattered again.

Not one was without a tear, the sunlight of the capital left with the sun.

But no matter how many times the sun rose, not once did he stir.

His death was another grave for the world to dig but to his loved ones he was a light that they could not replace.

The world moved on, his friends live to be better, the Kingdom grew to better heights.

Yet the King was the only one who would never stop visiting his name on stone.

Not once did he ever leave his side again.

/+\x/+\

Divine of …… essence

….that of wha…….at…..be…needed…

I…..order of……...ig…..t of stone

…..n…….ple…….six..

……...os…wish….f…….me…...pass..

Save....l…..touch……..veil

Retrace…..he…...on……...from…..nom

..do……….word……...id…...stone

...id……….nge………..ist

….re…...r...s…….va…..igh..

...es…...h…….old……….y

…..and….ks……..di…..

…...l….bl…….mpio…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note- Each chapter is a life, or time line Prompto awakes in. So if a chapter is short it mean he dies early or was near the end. And if the chapter is long... well your welcome. I didn't kill him.
> 
> +I wanted to write more Ravus in here but It just didn't up that way :(
> 
> ++Yes I add the two together. Why? To make it the most perfect time/lifeline I could get to having everyone living and not some God go fuck it up. Sorry I'm not sorry.
> 
> +++I relised half way Prompto never did had that heart to heart with Aranea in Episode Prompto as its Ignis who was taken but I will for ever love Aranea being that one person always looking after her Little Shortcake 
> 
> ++++I wanted more Sol. Yet my mind betrayed me. Damn.


	4. Episode Prompto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto only had a moment, an ill suspenseful horrifying moment before he realized too late what those blue crystals around Noctis meant.
> 
> He stepped back, tried to step back, trying to get away get away get away! But like last time, Noctis swanged his swords at his direction, hatred and fury was paired alongside red eyes.
> 
> Except this time, the sword hit true.
> 
> Prompto gasped, both of pain and of surprise. Already he could feel the blood over his stomach, the smell of metal filled up his senses as his mind frantically tried to make sense of what was going on.
> 
> ‘This...this wasn’t supposed to happen…’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very important note in the end. **READ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**
> 
> Episode Prompto is amazing and a tear gerker and defently worth everything because Prompto desivers everything-!
> 
> Ahem
> 
> As most of the fandom, I have really strong emotions for this Episode compare to the other two (and not because he is sunshine boi okay!)
> 
> anyways I hope you like this story because I latterly just sat down and wrote 6,000 words (out of the 10,000) in one sitting and had a few days looking over and editing it before I added even more on this chapter. Hope you all like ^^
> 
>   
>  **!!!!!!!!!!AND READ NOTES IN THE END!!!!!!!!!!!!**

This time he blinked.

His mind was a blank slate, not from the thought of having nothing to think about but from the fact that he had too much.

He died...right? And his eyes were open? So is he dead or was he-?

He lost his balance when the ground under his feet jerked under him.

He gave off an uncermonal yelp, his body falling with the rules of gravity going against him. Reactivity he waves his hands in front of him to protect his face, not wanting to hit his head or break his nose.

He didn't know what he expected, maybe hard rock or empty air, but he felt a smooth soft surface brush his hands before strengthening himself to make sure he wasn't falling anymore. Once he was sure he was steady he gave off a sigh of relief.

He moved up, trying to get up, but again his fingers brushed against the smooth soft surface.

And he paused.

He hadn't felt something this soft in years. In the ten years of darkness (maybe more if he were to look back) having any sort of pleasure, for it be from simple games or small comforts of any kind were hard to find and were used all up. He slept on rocks, trees, caverns, heck he once slept outside when it was still raining. So to feel something so soft…

His mind was distracted, hand moving gently on the floor's surface as he dragged his hand on, like if he were to put more pressure the floor would break. Palm down, back of his hand, fingers spreading and tightening - he played with the simple texture of the floor, gentle and mindful.

Where was he, to have felt something as simple as such softness like this? No... where in the ten years did he ever-

The floor gave another jerk but he was prepared and steadied his body. He felt like a fool from before, the jerk wasn't that strong and he only had to shift a bit so he wouldn't fall down-

Wait… the floor jerked?!

His head snapped up in a mix state of panic and surprise. He need only to look up before he knew where he was.

If the sight didn't help then it would be the sound of a whistle going off somewhere far in distance.

He was on a train.

He was on a **train!**

Gasping he pushed himself up in a hurry and surveyed his surroundings.

The room was small, still only with the one man size space in the middle; it was still enough that Prompto was not touching the two bunk beds that were nailed to the wall. There were small compartments on each wall, used to hold onto small personal items. The window was uncovered and he could clearly see the passing of trees, buildings, and the sunset sky as they moved on.

He could see on one of the beds all neat and proper, another wrinkled but smoothen out in an attempt to be just as clean as the first one. The top one had a small pile of clothes - mostly of black - with the fourth bed looking untouched.

He was in a room. It took another second before it clicked - he was in his room, the one he shared with the rest of the gang.

But if he was on a train then that would mean…

_Luna is gone. Pryna was sent alongside her master. Ignis lost his eyesight. They were headed to the Keep._

_Noct pushed him._

Blood drained from his face and his hands started to shake.

That… that can’t be right. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he wasn’t supposed to be standing here with both feet on soft carpet or breathing in heavy pants. He was supposed to be buried in snow and skin blue from the cold. He was supposed to be trapped in the place he was made and covered in ice.

But then again… then why hasn’t he died the first time or the second when his neck snapped? Why has he been reliving the years of darkness over and over? Why did he get a different run every time? Why was every time he woke up something was different?

“ ~~Th~~ **Is i** ~~S y~~ _ ~~O~~ u r_ C **h **_OIc_ e .”

He gulped, trying to find saliva in his deep dry throat before closing his eyes.

He counted to ten.

He opened in his eyes.

He was still in the four bed room, window showing fast moving scenery, and feet still planted on top of carpet.

Prompto was standing inside a train.

This wasn’t a dream.

“ ~~Th~~ **Is i** ~~S y~~ _~~O~~ u r_ C **h ** _OIc_ e .”

Suddenly he felt the urge to laugh and cry. To scream in rage but to dance in pure joy. He needed to hug Gladio and tell him it was alright and that they needed to stick together. He wanted to find Iggy and talk his ear off over the millions of photos he wanted to show him and how cool he was able to fight even without his sight. He needed to find Noct and cry before punching him for being a self sacrificial idiot, teasing the life out of him.

He needed to. He needed Noct. He needed to find Noct.

Nothing seemed to matter no more - the train, the many tries, the unexplainable life and death scenario he was pulled into to relive over and over - nothing was worth a single grain of though when all he needed was Noct.

He needed to see Noct.

His body was not his own but he did not mind it. He opened the door of the room with a little too much force. In the corner of his eye he could see some passengers giving him dirty looks but he did not care. Slamming the door with the same amount of force he sprinted to his left before opening the door that connected the cart next to it, needing to get to the dining cart. If he had stopped to think he would have wondered why he would go left, why he knew he needed to go to the dining cart, or where it was. Maybe he would have stopped to think about it but then again… there was no use into thinking about where Noct was when he already found him once before. This was not his first time.

(Prompto huffed, looking wilding for a man of midnight hair and a single gloved hand. While there were many black haired people he saw, none had their hair spiked to perfection like he knew a certain prince would fuss and whine about. Taking another step into the new compartment he almost missed the familiar shape of side spiked hair before he slipped to a stop and a yelp escaped his lips.)

The blondie ran and ran. Door after door after door. Within reason he didn’t know how much he ran or how many compartments he passed through but all of that did not matter when he felt his whole body tighten as he opened a similar (but fate changing) door.

He stopped, slightly panting, red face and eyes looking wild as he all but stared at the man he was looking for.

Noct.

Noctis.

With his head in his hand and his eyes in the horizon of the window, the prince was oblivious to the terminal he was causing the gunner as he all but gazed idly at the outside.

Prompto felt like his breath was stolen from him before being replaced by something pure and fresh.

Noctis was there. He was here. And he was in arms reach.

His feet moved without further thought and he opened his mouth to say something. Anything.

“Noct... There you are.”

Yes, there he was. Noct with his wild spiked up hair. Noct with his youthful stubbornness and small competitiveness. Noct with his skin clean of scars or facile hair. Noct…

Who wasn’t looking his way.

Something squeaked in his chest, cold and empty.

That wasn’t right. He… he _needed_ to see Noctis. He needed for Noctis to see _him_. He needed to prove that he was _here_.

He needed him.

He was about to say something, say what he does not know, but he doesn’t mind. Not at all. Because Noctis was speaking to him. Noctis was _acknowledging_ him!

“Hey. Did you see?”

He wanted to cry. His voice… his voice was different from the man with long jaw length hair and a starting beard. It was deep yet still held a little crack that showed he was still maturing. He used to always tease Noct so many times over it and in turn he would always get debunk with how squeaking and high his own voice was.

He never knew how much he missed that voice.

He wanted to hear more of it.

“Yeah,” he said softly, cautiously. He was scared that if he spoke wrongly then Noct would stop talking. “It’s unreal.”

Yes, so very unreal yet so true. If this was an illusion then he would never know what to do. And by the Gods did he hope, so very much hope when Noct spoke with him again that this was real.

“Never seen anything like it. It doesn't make any sense.”

Even if this was a dream or reality, he never wanted this to end.

For the first time that they started talking, Prompto released what Noct was looking at.

It was a wall or a wave of clouds in the distance, so far yet to close. If they were to continue on they would be further away from the wall of misted water.

They look soft, he thought, ignoring the danger that lurks behind it. Will they be as soft as the carpeted floor in their room? Or will it be a whole new type of texture he never released?

Maybe Noct would know.

“Do you think it would be soft? I mean, it does give me the chills but don’t cha think it would make a soft bed?”

Prompto smiled softly. What would it be like to sleep on that cloud. Probably he would get wet and then Iggy would scowl him for thinking it was such a good idea. He would shulk for a bit before Noct would comfort him by playing King’s Knight before baiting Gladio in it then dragging Ignis into it as well. Or maybe he would drag him to grab a drink instead. Or maybe he would tell them they were going to bed before messing around and exploring the train and all it would have to offer.

“It’s a real mystery,” he whispered to no one in particular, his expression was a show of fondness and peace.

This was what he always wanted.

He was about to speak again, maybe to elabor what he said or to add with his previous though he did not know. But before he could even speak his throat tightened and his tongue turned into lead.

Bloodlust was in the air.

Prompto froze, then he tensed before he wiped wildly up to his feet.

He was a fool.

(“Noct?”)

“Noct…,” he tired before he was forced to dodge a well aimed punch to his face.

He looked up and regretted that discussion.

Violet storm raged eyes were glaring with murderous attention his way.

(“Whoa! What's going on….”)

“The hell are you doing here!”

He, in the moment of joy and peace, of both dream and reality, forgot something very important. Something that will forever haunt his living nightmares. Something he would always carry in inky black on his wrist. Something he would always flinch whenever he heard the whistle of a train.

This can’t be happening.

He has to stop this.

(“Hold on!”)

“Noct,” he said, trying. His mouth felt sticky and dry. “Noct its not-”

The sound of crystals rang in the air and he jumped back. He only just managed to miss getting hit by the sword that was aimed for his legs.

“Shut up!”

(“Wait! Is this for real…?”)

He didn’t think, he ran.

And he could tell from the pounding of boots and angered curses that he was being followed.

He ran even harder.

The first time he ran in those corridors he didn’t pay much attention to much, did see where he was but only with the thought of reaching his final destination. He would hear people whispering and glaring at him in most areas, some with little kids who would watch in curiosity before being pulled by their parents to look away.

But now, as he ran, all he could think was how far the next door was from him. How he needed to avoid tripping or hitting anyone to stop him. He could see the same amount of people giving him glares from before but they would gaze from something behind him and their dirty glares would change into something unexplainable. Even the kids that would watch anything would shout at him to run faster or ask loudly why the crying man was being chased.

If he could he would ask why they think he was crying, only to realize that his cheek did in fact feel wet.

He only forced himself to run even faster.

Still the sound of moving feet did not stop behind him, nor the distance they were from him.

Maybe it was the panic, maybe it was from exhaustion, but for whatever reason it may have been, he had only opened the door to the small area to the next compartment when it had happened.

He slipped.

And then he was falling.

He opened his mouth, preparing himself for the pain that will come from the unexpected fall but it did not happen.

His back hit the wall of the iron steel door, arm at his throat cutting off his air.

He couldn’t breath.

“Noct.” He gasped, trying but failing to loosen the tight grip around his throat. “Please Noct, it’s me! P-”

“Shut up!”

He did.

“What are you after following me around this whole time,” Nocts yelled into his face. Then, for a second, his angered face turned to sadden with guilt before hardening again. “This is all your fault!”

His eyes went wide.

(“It was all your fault!”)

He wasn’t thinking rationally. He wasn’t remembering correctly. He wasn’t looking clearly.

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“...Do you really mean that?”

(“I’m sorry I fell for his tricks...”)

There was no hesitation in his voice when he answered, no, yelled in his face.

“Of course I do!”

He was alone.

“You can’t talk your way out of this.”

He wanted to scream.

“Never.”

He needed to get away.

Before he could do any of those things, before Noct could continue to yell at him or hurt him even more the whole train jerked into a sudden stop. Both boys went flying to the side, the grip on his neck was loosen and he could finally breathe again.

Only for his world to become black.

/+\x/+\

He woke up with the movement of shakiness under him.

Groaning he moved a hand to rub against his head, a dull pain was lingering where he pressed his fingers.

Then the whole train shook and he whipped around to see what had happened.

It was then he realized he was outside.

He gasped at the cinder trees and the open sky above him. But then he reeled back in horror when he saw the inexcusable shapes of MT drop ships nearing the back of the train.

This wasn’t happening.

Quickly he moved to his feet, unsteady before he found his balance again and stood firmly on the thin metal top. He only managed to take one step before he felt a rush of air around him and the small sound of laughter.

“Well if it isn’t the little prince’s friend.”

Prompto was face to face with Ardyn.

And his mind blanked.

Ardyn.

(“Ah, isn’t this such a sweet family reunion?”

“I don’t care for the price. As long as I kill the one who deceived me.”

“You think ten years is a long time?!”

“Dare you speak her name in front of me!”

“It is nothing to me! I have lived in darkness for ages!”

“I won’t be a puppet for you to control. My ending is my own, not yours to write as words over a man’s life.”

I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

“Farewell brother.”

“So, this is how you would end it.”)

(“You killed Luna!”

“Get off the throne Jester. The King sits there.”

“Die in peace.”)

(“The Founder King was a Healer.”

“Ardyn was Somnus’ brother?!”

“He was suppose to be the true King....”)

(Who was he to him?)

A man who was pushed and deceived by the same God that gave Noctis the power of the Crystal. He was a man who was tortured and chained to be a person who was made a pledge instead of a healer like he was promised to be. He was the Founding King who helped saved the world.

What was he supposed to think?

“Ardyn,” his voice was far off and distant, even in his own ears.

The man paused at his response, tilted his head in a slight questioning manner that he didn’t know the man could do.(Then again, he didn’t know a lot about the man before he died as a true King.) But the action was gone in a second and the cold ruthless smile he was used to seeing on his face appeared.

This was Ardyn, Founder King, first Healer of the Gods, and savior of their world.

But this was the Ardyn before he was given a chance and a helping hand from Noct.

This was the Ardyn that would do anything to kill his brother’s bloodline.

“Glad to see that you're awake. I hope your neck hasn’t bruised from your little chase.”

He tried not to but he unconsciously moved his hand over his neck. He felt the start of a bruise just like he said.

“Oh, did your prince leave a bruise after all?”

(“The hell were you doing!? Following me around all this time!”)

Noct chased him didn’t he? He yelled at him and attacked him. He tried to hurt him.

But…

“No,” he denied. “No. Noct would never do that!”

He knew enough to remember.

That wasn’t Noct. Noct wouldn't hurt him, he would never hurt him! Even when he fought with Gladio he was never pushed away by Noct like how the Shield did to him. It wasn’t Noct that was chasing Prompto down the train, it was Ardyn who tricked him to do so.

He may have been a mess of emotion in the last hour but he knew enough to clear his head and think clearly now. After all, if he didn’t have a clear head in the ten years of darkness then he might as well leave an opening for a Daemon to come and attack him. He lived ten, no, he lived more than ten years with that kind of survival. To waste all that he learned at that time, to think enough to remember what had happened, he would only lead himself to pain and self doubt.

He won’t do that again, he won’t fall for it this time.

“You did something,” he accused. “You tricked him!”

(“You weren’t the only one he tricked.”)

He won’t fall for it again.

“Oh my, how loyalty runs deep with you.” He mocked as he walked his way towards him. “Yet, then again would the same be said if he knew what you are?”

Prompto took a half step back, stopped, then stood his ground.

(“Who care where your from.”)

No, he won’t doubt him. He would not doubt Noct, he trusts him, he trusts that he would accept him!

He has to.

“Noct trust me.”

Ardyn stopped, a flicker of surprise in his eyes before it died down.

Strange, why hasn’t his voice sound this strong when he confronted the man the first time?

“Noct trust me,” he repeated, the same unknown strength voiced with his words. If he were to look at the mirror, he would see his eyes strong with courage and poster hard and tense for an attack. He looked like the Prompto that fought off one of the God’s copies. “And I trust Noct. So whatever you did to him to trick him like that,” he faded off to something dark and malicious. “Undo it. **Now.** ”

He was slightly pleased to see the darker red head blink in bewilderment. He almost wanted to laugh. From what he remembers, his times with the man were always of him cowering behind his friends or trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere with small jokes or puns. To have him suddenly become as calm and fierce like Ignis might have come to a shock to anyone.

But frankly, he did not care.

The spell of tenseness and surprise was quickly erased with a sound of feet landing a bit away from them.

Prompto turned to see who it was.

His heart swelled when he saw Noct panted down in a crouched position before moving to pick himself up. He went to step closer to him, persuming to help him but Noct gave off another gasp before straightening himself and looked up.

He expected something of angered protectiveness, a feeling he saw many times when he or anyone of them were injured in battle enough that they would use a Phoenix Down. It was never betrayed by his face but from his voice and eyes everytime he called out to them, Gladio grunting to move, Ignis struggling to stand, and Prompto trying to breathe. Once, when they went in the swamp to look for the lady-like Daemon that lures Hunters to their deaths, they had used up more then ten Phinxoses Down in the first hour they engaged in battle. Prompto thought that they would be stuck there all night until Noct told them to retreat. He remembered feeling woozy and the buzzing that played in his head when he saw Noct take the wheel instead of the Advisor. To his credit, Ignis did try to say that he should be driving with so many Daemons out in the night but Noct said that with Cindy’s lights that she had installed that they would not encounter any on their way. He remembered struggling to stay awake and time all but flew over their heads. Before long, they were paying to stay in a hotel in Lestallum for three days. Needless to say that was the best three days of his life.

(If only he knew what's to come.)

Perhaps it was that memory he hoped to relive, to be cared for once more by Noct. However that does not seem to be the case this time.

Prompto only had a moment, an ill suspenseful horrifying moment before he realized too late what those blue crystals around Noctis meant.

He stepped back, tried to step back, trying to get away _get away **get away!**_ But like last time, Noctis swanged his swords at his direction, hatred and fury was paired alongside red eyes.

Except this time, the sword hit true.

Prompto gasped, both of pain and of surprise. Already he could feel the blood over his stomach, the smell of metal filled up his senses as his mind frantically tried to make sense of what was going on.

_‘This...this wasn’t supposed to happen…’_

Yet Noctis was not done, oh he was not done. With one hand on the hilt of his sword his other was free from any weapon. Without hesitation in his blood lust eyes he raised it and pulled back, palm flat and fingers slightly curling in anticipation.

Prompto knew all too well what that meant, having replay this too many times, going over and over in his capture, his self hated mind trying to figure out what he did wrong.

Expect this time, things were different, so utterly tragically different.

While his brain tried to tell him to move, screaming at him at the dangers that were yet to come his body refused to do the same. The sword was still stuck in his stomach and his muscles were screaming at him with the pierced flesh. Once he had a dagger stuck in his shoulder, its blade deep in him. It was painful when Ignis removed it, more painful than he thought it should be for a small weapon. Now though, it was a sword in his stomach, not a dagger in his shoulder.

He wanted to cry.

_‘Why...it wasn’t supposed to…’_

Nothing stopped the hand that pushed him back.

A squish sound dully echoed in his ears, his lips part as he all but gasped at Noctis, to the sky, to the blur of a moving train and the self satisfied oh so mocking smile of- of-

Of himself.

Oh.

Oh!

….no.

No!

No no no no-!

His head hit the ground and all was black.

/+\x/+\

For the first time, he did not wake up startled or sacred.

For the first time, he woke up alone.

Prompto was in pain. Both physical and mental.

As soon as he woke up, three things came to mind. Three horrible and tainted things.

It happened again. It happened again, he was chased again. He was pushed off the train again. He was alone in the cold darkness once more but this time he was wounded. A wound that he wasn’t supposed to have.

The second thing was that he was - _is_ \- wounded, his stomach had a gaping hole that was still leaking of blood that he was grateful that it didn’t attract any animals. For now.

Swallowing, he forced his body to get up, to use the bottom of his vest to make a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding. Silently he made an apology to Ignis, knowing how he would berate them if even a single button was missing, still in another part, he could hear the approval of Gladio’s voice as he nodded in agreement with the blonde. He let himself get caught in that fantasy that they were there with him, helping him, before going back to his life endangering blood loss. While sloppy and hands messy of blood, he was tended to. As long as he is alive he is ok.

(He was not ok.)

After that he walked.

And the third thing of his thoughts was the one thing that haunted him as he moved on.

Noctis stabbed. He hurt him. He tried to kill him.

Perhaps the first time it didn’t settle in, that when Noctis was chasing him with his sword and a voice filled with anger all he could think about was how scary Noctis was. He only saw that as a threat to him, a way of Noctis trying to get him away and gone. Noct didn’t want him, it was his fault that Noct was so miserable. Noct hated him. But here, it finally unveiled what Noctis had tried to do and successfully did during the second time. Noct didn’t just want him gone, oh no he wanted more then that.

Noctis wasn’t scaring him. He was trying to kill him.

( ~~No….stop, listen! It wasn't you he saw it was Ardyn. Ardyn! Remember Prompto? Remember!~~ )

Bile was rising from his throat but he forced it down. On top of bleeding to death, having nothing to keep him safe in the night, and the empty loneliness that started to settle in, he didn’t need the problem of an empty stomach begging him to find food. At least not yet.

He needed to survive.

The walk was the same as last time, from his life before. Shame, regert, empty, and cold. So very, very cold. But there was nothing for him to do but walk on and follow the rails, crawl whenever he heard the telltale of hissing and moans in the distances. He thought about running. He was fast enough, enough so that he could run past the Daemons before they realized that he was there. But the idea was swiftly cast aside, he was wounded and it was best not to further injure himself, lest he open it and bleed more.

At least he remembered Igins’ lectures enough to not get himself killed.

What a mortified thought.

That night he got no sleep, terror and fear ate at him as he stayed alive.

When the first ray of sunlight appeared he stopped to look.

It was beautiful.

(On his morning jogs at home, he would always stop a brief second to stare at the sun everytime he passed by the bridge that overlooked the nearby lake. He always liked the sunset, it was never the same. Some days there were clouds in the sky, colored in peach pink or mango orange. Sometimes there would be morning mist and the small rainbow that would join in with the fog. Rare days were of nothing but clear sky and the whole world was painted in the color of the sunset.

He had no one to share it with but it was his beautiful treasure.

Two weeks after meeting Noctis he sent a picture to him of a clouded sunset in the morning.

In the afternoon he got a reply about how beautiful the sun was.)

(“What was beautiful? The sun or your sun?”)

(“My sun.”)

Memories were nothing but pain, yet this one was one he could not help but replay as he waited for the sun to rise further into the sky.

/+\x/+\

It was only an hour after he stopped to watch the sunrise when he saw it.

A Haven.

He never ran so fast in his life.

Scrabbling and panting with delusional happiness, Prompto all but sprinted to the top, waited to be greeted with the sight of an untouched campfire, blue color smoke, and glowing magic stones.

He did not expect to see a backpack sitting in the middle with a large piece of paper with an even more noticeable name written on it.

_Prompto~_

He almost ran the other way but stopped himself to think logically about it.

Leaving a Haven now when he was too tired to keep his eyes open is not an option.

Reluctantly he stayed. Not because of the Haven though.

(He didn’t know what to feel any more.

Does he hate the man?

Prompto dug into the bag; gloves, winter hat, a large coat, thick goggles, thermal pants, and snow boots.

Does he hate Noct?

Trading them out for his regular clothes he wore for the past year he shed his vest before his shirt.

Or does he hate himself more?

Placing on the gloves he hesitated before tightening the wristband, he refused to let them go.

Leaving the bag behind he walked on again. Mindless and endless.

He can’t feel a thing.)

Breathing through his nose and out with his mouth he lifted the paper with his name and stared at it.

Then he flinged it over the side and watched it get lost with the wind.

He felt a small satisfaction seeing the paper disappear.

A plus side of all this was that he found out there was a small stream from where the paper flew away.

So he had water down, didn’t need to worry about that necessity for now.

Lets see what was in the bag.

(Not like he didn’t know.)

Unzipping the bag revealed a pile of clothes. Ones he was very familiar with and ones he hoped he had never needed to see again.

It’s too late now.

Digging the clothes out carefully, he almost missed it when something white rolled out from the grips of his gloves.

It was a clean roll of bandages.

He practically ripped open the bag again to see what else was inside.

He didn’t want to but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the potion bottle.

Careful not to strain himself, he moved quickly to the stream. Once he edged near enough he placed down the bandages and potion on the ground before unwrapping his makeshift one around his stomach.

It was worse than he thought.

What once was a gaping hole was now raw and an ary of colors. Purple and black lined the outer layer before blue and yellow filled in the damaged skin it surrounded. But the wound itself was red and dark of blood, both dry and wet. It seems like his run to the Haven opened his wound again without him knowing.

He looked at the damage of his stab wound, closed his eyes, and counted to ten.

He opened them and got to work.

Careful to scoop the water in his hand, he let it trickle between his fingers to wash away the dried out blood that was on his hands and stomach. He winched when the cold water entered his open wound but dabbed it dry any ways. So after he cleaned the blood he could see it wasn’t that bad as it was made to be. The dried up blood made most of the colors darker than they should be but he still had the rainbow on his stomach, but lighter in comparison.

Satisfied, he grabbed the potion bottle onto his hand and squeezed.

A small amount of magical ointment gathered on his palm before the bottle spouted.

His heart stopped.

No.

Lessing his grip on the potion, he waited for it to inflate itself again, gathering air in the container before squeezing it again.

Nothing came out.

He blinked, once, twice, before hysterical laughter escaped his lips.

That goddamn bastard of manipulation! He made him get his hopes up with warm clothes and food that was gifted to him on a silver platter, and he practically let his guard down when he saw the clean white bandages sitting on the very bottom of the bag! Of course he would do something to turn the table on him.

His eyes were watery as he added the cream at the center of the wound, his fingers slightly entering his own body.

He shrugged to think that this was once a place that he should never touch. Muscles, bones, veins, and blood. All at the tips of his fingers.

(He once cut his wrist, to see if he could cut away the black lines on his skin. Maybe next time when mom comes home she wouldn’t yell at him for not putting on his wrist band.)

(He bleeds red but always a straight line of black.)

(He never told his mom.)

He felt another burst of laughter coming to escape again.

The cream only lessens the depth of his wound it seems. With the amount he was given he could only do so much as he felt his muscles repairing themself inside of him as he managed not to wither in pain.

In the end he hoped that he would find another potion soon, sure his wound may have healed for now but if he leaves it exposed like this then he would either bleed to death or get an infection, and by the time he could get another potion it would have been too late. If he goes past the limit then he is forced to stick to healing the normal way.

(Or die slow and painfully.)

After shaking his thoughts and putting on the new bandages, he changed to the new winter seasoned clothes before laying down to sleep on the hard surface of the Haven.

Younger Prompto would complain about the feeling of having a stiff back or the raw sensation of neck whenever there was a breeze that passed by.

But this Prompto could not help but think that the glowing blue stones that shine were a comfort all on its own. His very own five star hotel.

With no blanket and his Crownsguard uniform as a pillow he drifted off to sleep.

/+\x/+\

Perhaps he was sleeping longer than he should. Maybe because of the blood lost from his sleep on the night he fell he started to hallucinate. But whatever the reason, he saw a familiar airship right above him.

His legs stop, unsure to run and risk the storm or stay and be taken.

He didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to let the snow hold him down and accept his fate this way. With sheer stubbornness as his will power he made another step forward to run.

His body answered by taking away the ability to stand.

He grunted as he fell face first into the snow and shrugged. It was so cold.

Three MT’s were above him, ones that he knew must be from the time of before. He fought ,or tied to. His body was beyond its limit it seems. Frozed, plae, weak, and bloody; he gave up and his eyes closed once again.

A frozen tear was at the corner of his eye.

_‘Not like this…’_

/+\x/+\

His wristband was gone again. Funny, he didn’t even think to look at his wrist when he felt the unexpected cold on bare skin this time. Really his thoughts were all about finding Noct. Adding that to finding as many reports and recordings he could find as well, he knew he would need them when he showed them to Ignis later on. They are very important, you know.

And to him as well, they are proof. Proof of what he is and what kind of monster he was meant to be. Proof of his birthplace and creation. Proof that Noct cast carelessly aside in order to tell him that he was just him, Prompto.

Just Prompto.

Nothing more.

_‘No,’_ he shook his head. _‘Stop it. You just need to find Ardyn who would lead you to Verstael and then he would meet up with Aranea again.’_

_‘You will meet them soon.’_

Soon.

(What was ever soon? Soon only meant the end.)

(End and end it all again.)

Still he only met with Ardyn once, in the front, before he was left alone to defend himself again. He almost forgot that the Crystal at the time was taken and blocked the magic Noctis had, enabling him to be useless when trying to grab a weapon in the armory.

Oh and the fact that he had to use his barcode as a key to move forward.

That's when he found out about his wristband.

He stayed there, not moving for a couple of minutes before moving on.

He was super hyper aware of his barcode after that but then again he need only to think ahead.

(It was hard to do so when you are in the place they created you in.)

Thankfully he had an edge over the rest of the MT’s. He knew where they would be stationed and he sneaked up on more than just a few rather effectively. It was better than going to shoot blindly with adrenaline in his veins. That, paired with the sniper he found in one of the compartments that he knew for sure that weren’t left by chance, made a deadly team with his killing spree.

But with this information over them they still had an advantage over Prompto as well.

He winced in pain, sitting on the bench near the vending machine so that he didn't have to reach that far for a drink for his winter dry throat.

He honestly got used to the feeling of throbbing and needle like pain whenever he walked in the snow storm. He only had one day before that wall of clouds came knocking at his doorstep and he was awakened with the freezing cold of snow clinging on his hair. He’s wound got worse when he was forced to walk around, especially since it was still technically open. It was painful, very much so but as said he got used to the feeling and the cold helped a bit by numbing him quite a bit. What didn’t help was when he had to run, roll, sneak, crunch, and sprint all over the place in order to kill all the MT’s in the building.

(It scares him a lot. That they used to be like him, just as much as he could have been one of them.

Humans, clones yes but humans, babies given the blood of Daemons and made into machines with no emotions. Never given a chance to live, never given a chance to learn, never given a chance to feel and express themselves at best.

It was Ravus that made him think this way. He said that if he truly thought that he was to be an MT then they too could have been someone just like him.

“Profound that the only difference was you were given a chance. The rest were left for dead.”)

As much as he improved from being ‘silent but deadly’ he still had the physical disadvantage of doing so.

It also did not help when he would find many potions scatter all over.

He knows Ardyn is playing with him (just like he was as well by the Gods) and that he knew what he was doing when he gave him that one potion bottle in the beginning. It’s been days, too many that the hole in his stomach would not be healed by any magical means. He already tried and nothing but the scratchies from stray tree branches he had to push through were closed off leaving smooth skin.

All in all, he was in pain.

But he could handle it.

(I’ve been in pain all my life.)

(It’s hard at first, hiding and settling down with it as I grow up.)

(But I learn to cover it away, take my mind off of it from time to time.)

(But the thing is, is that, that was the only thing he could do.)

(Hide the pain. Hide it all away.)

(“Whatever you do, do not take that wristband off.”)

(“Ever.”)

Prompto sighed before moving up.

He still needed to continue after all.

Ardyn. Verstael. Aranea. Noct.

He still needed Noct.

Footspest sounded away as they walked off deeper into the lair of secrecy.

/+\x/+\

_Knowledge is a tool used by many, words of the wise._

_Tools are best to be used, be a may a fool to lay them to age in old._

_However, if one can’t not use them, they are useless._

_And time will help perfect the perfection of such tools._

_Yet even the most effecten of tools would leave a chip of imperfection._

_A stray mark left unseen by the untrained eye._

_Nothing is not without consequences._

/+\x/+\

He forgot about the tubes. Or in more truthfulness, he wanted to forget.

Still memories never lie.

He was faced to faced with his own, closed eyes and bare body and caged.

How he wanted to forget this.

He looked away, breathing steady but fist clenching.

Was it wrong? Wrong to think a way to save those that were inside? Was it wrong to look into this room and want to smash everything to bits? Was it wrong that he wanted to run run run and find Aranea himself rather than going through the processes of waitting for her to break in? Was it so wrong to think such things?

Questions _questions **questions**_ , but never answers huh?

It’s ok though, his unanswered question the first time around left him in chains and the fear that he would be put to death by his own friends, a fear he still carries around with him even after all this time.

(“Who… What am I?”)

Some questions are better left unanswered.

(You make your own answers. Find them or make them. Origins or fate.)

(Answers are only there to fill in the blank spots.)

(Doesn't mean you can’t fill them with your own though.)

/+\x/+\

He shot him, he shot Verstael.

He started down at the man, the man that was half way from turning, from becoming a Daemon with smog coming from his body. He laid there, lifeless and dead in more ways than one. In a way he was already dead. Turning to a Daemon is just another way of dying.

Still he did not move, an unholy grip on his handgun and eyes staring straight at the man (Daemon) he killed.

He… he shot him.

That was…. That was good. This was good. He did the right thing.

The right thing.

“Look what you’ve done.”

He flinched, forgetting about the speakers in the room. Forgetting who was playing him like a pawn in his game.

“You’ve gone homicidal - no, patricidal!”

He bit his tongue, blood pooling in his mouth.

”You lose your friends and murder your family. Now you’ve no one left”

Something snapped.

“Shut up!”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. Briefly he could feel the blood escape from his lips but he did not care.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Words with venom and begging for it to end hissed out. The sound of the mad man's laughter still ringing all over as he yelled those words.

He could not take it.

Leveling his gun, he moved it to the farther side of the room, angling it to look up before shooting bullet after bullet.

The sound of laughter was cut shortly but he still didn’t stop the next voice from interrupting.

“Vital functions decreasing. Plasmodium activity index increasing.Daemonification complete. Initiating transfer to Uint XDA-1002: Immortalis”

Everything turned red.

He unfroze.

The machine that was in front of him started to spin and move, gears shifting and metal parts started to move into motion. The room started to shark before it began to rumble.

He shouldn’t stay. He needs to get out.

Quikly he slapped himself into focus, already turning to the exit when a part of the wall crumbled over itself and a woman emerged from the damage.

“You always play hard to get like this?”

This was one of those moments where he will forever love that straightforwardness of Aranea.

/+\x/+\

He did not miss the missile and he was once again thrown to the blanket of snow that harshly softened his fall.

Explosion but whatever.

With a groan he picked himself up regardfully, an effort he was surprised that needed a lot more than last time. Grinding his teeth he made way to the snowmobile and flipped it over so that he could sit on it again. Once he got on he pushed the pedal for gas.

He can’t stay there for long.

Unbeknown to him, crimson started to darken the white wraps he had on his stomach, unable to feel with both the mind numbing cold and high peaked adrenalin.

It was not healing.

/+\x/+\

The fire in front of him was a taunt, a temptation that he was willing to grab and take for his own.

He never knew how beautiful such light colored flames would look like under the night sky and drifted snow. Different and bright, so noticeable under the pale color, so easy to see if one could only look through the cave and see the fire burning with passion and disgrace.

Looking down at his barcode he can’t help but think of the flames again.

Temptation was all too sweet.

What would it be like, he thought, to have no brand that marks you as a failure? What would it be like to have a bare wrist? To be cared for and nurtured like all the others?

What would it be like to not constantly live your life in fear?

The fire flicker and pop and crackle at his dismay.

He swallowed.

The temptation was all too sweet, yet so so sour.

He reached for the firewood, a single piece that was not so fully burned and that it was still solid enough for him to place his whole hand without getting himself burned.

Except that is exactly what he wants.

He wants to burn.

Burn. _Burn. **Burn.**_

Without a second thought he placed the fire over his inked skin.

/+\x/+\

He screamed.

/+\x/+\

He was stupid. He forgot that Aranea was coming because she was the one to tell him to come here but he got a reminder when she forcefully yanked his hand with the burning stick away, for unlike last time he refused to let go when the pain got to him.

(Yet all he could see, behind the burnt out flesh and rose red blood was lines of perfect black.)

(He just wanted to burn.)

( ~~He wonders why he felt that way.~~ )

( ~~Maybe Ardyn was to blame after all. He did more then make him snap it seems~~ )

( ~~He wasn’t abandoned. He couldn’t be.~~ )

( ~~“I had to know… Did you miss me?”~~ )

But from the consequences of leaving his hand on stand by before it was yanked away also got him the not-so-unreasonable response of grabbing him by the collar and get all over his face about what sort of stupid stunt he was pulling.

Truly, he felt more relieved she was there when he did.

(He didn’t know if he would stop himself if no one came. Burn his hand right off maybe…)

(After all, it was what made him the outcast, the unknown danger, the threat, the failure.)

But it worked out in the end. He got information about the new project, got slapped for being an idiot and told off in more ways than one, before going into the subject of his friends.

(About Noct.)

Laying back with her arms to support her she tilted her head to the side in his direction. “I ran into your buddies in Tenebrae. You’ve got’em worried sick.”

His eyes draw away from his now newly healed skin. He can’t help but feel such an unexpected emotion.

Surprised.

Why?

(He was falling before he knew it, hole in his stomach with blood leaking out, Noct with his raged filled hate plainly viewed all over his face as he saw Ardyn - no, not Ardyn exactly - where he saw himself smiling at him in the most mockery of smiles as he waved him away with his mouth moving to form two words.

“Safe fall.”)

Oh…

Thats why.

“They were worried?”

It's pathetic how he could hear the timidness of his voice, the quiver of it all with that slight under tone lace of hope crawling right out. He shouldn’t hope, not really. If anything he is nothing in this state. Hoping and grasping for any signs of recognition huh? What good will it do? He was already pushed away, worse, stabbed away from the first person he ever cared for. And even then he was only ignored by the rest as well, not a second glance at his direction before everything went downhill from there.

He paused and breathed in.

Ardyn was getting to him.

“In case you forgot, your princely pal and I weren’t always on such friendly terms.” Aranea said, all this time watching him with a considerate look in her eyes. “But you know what? He put all that aside and asked me to make sure you were safe.”

He wanted to believe her, and he did! He really does believe her! But... even with such reassurance and the fact he did this once before did not stop the image of rage, the feeling of pain as he fell, the memories that came and the fact he felt so betrayed as he was pushed away…

It hurts.

“He did?”

Aranea didn’t hesitate. “Think he would do that for just anyone?”

His face showed pain. “I-”

He looked down to think it through.

Logically and memorial speaking yes, Noct would do this for him. He would come and find him.

(“I’m sorry I fell for his tricks.”)

But the more mental and fearful part of him wanted to say no. As soon as he tells him what he was meant to be he was sure he was going to be disposed of.

(“What were you doing, following me around!”)

“I-”

What was it? What was it that made him hesitate?

(It was too late, all too late when he saw the crystals surrounding him.)

“He stabbed me.”

Prompto stilled and so did Aranea.

Waves over waves of panic came crashing down on him.

What did he just do? **What did he just do?!**

He stutters, his words trying but just won’t come out as he tried to save whatever salvation he has by trying to explain himself but he knew it was too late.

**What did he just do?!?!**

“...What?”

He shut down his stuttering.

Her words, while soft held an undertone of danger as she spoke, gaze solely on him.

He gulped.

He was a dead man.

His eyes looked away as he tried to speak again.

“N-no! I-It was Ardyn. H-he tried t-to get to me and I gu-e-ess he did? I mean we were on the roof an-and then Noct came but he thought Ardyn was m-me and then he-”

His breath hitched.

“He-”

Water was gathering at the corner of his eyes.

“I-I-”

Rough hands grabbed and pulled him away from his spot in the cave. He flinched, not knowing what was going to happen to him when he just admitted that the prince had stabbed him but he wasn’t sure why he wasn’t being yelled at.

He was pulled into a hug.

He stilled.

What…?

A hand patted his back, a little too hard, but not unlike Gladio’s where he was unbearably strong, with a feeling of gentleness as it repeated this action. He didn’t move, didn’t want to move as he selfishly took in the rough but very affectionate hug he was given from the older woman in front of him.

He sniffed.

Why?

“Beacuses kid,” Aranea said softly, not unlike her straightforward no nonsense tone she is used to talking to. “No one deserves that.”

He must have said that outloud, his question of all things. He couldn’t help but shrug with the words she said to him.

(“No one deserves that.”)

What does he deserve?

“His Highness was so worried about you he could barely speak,” she said again, this time his back pat was moved to his shoulder as he was pushed away slightly to meet her face to face. “I whipped him into shape, but clearly I didn’t do such a good job in doing so. Remind me to kick that princely ass of his again when we meet alright?”

(“When we meet again.”)

“So… he doesn't hate me after all.”

It wasn’t a question, it was meant to be but for some reason it didn’t seem that way. Just a statement, a fact.

(One he is not sure is true.)

“Look kid,” Aranea sighed as she tried again. “I’m not good with this stuff but I will tell you what I told the prince of yours - stop mopping and start hoping. There's nothing you can do here, waiting for something to happen. But I know that there are three others who are waiting for you.” She paused. “Maybe two once I get to them first.”

Without his consent, a smile twitched onto his face.

It seems that no matter where (when) he was he could count on Aranea anytime. Be it to kick his ass to get him out of his stupidity to to pick him up from others own sheer amount of idiocy from getting to him. Whatever it may be he could alway look up to the silver hair warrior that was hugging him.

He nodded, then let a soft laugh.

She could alway make him smile, huh?

Aranea had her own smile, small but a similarly bright grace on her lips.

No matter what he could always count on Aranea.

That’s why he believed her.

/+\x/+\

He had no dreams of MT’s or angered friends or neglected children. There was no snow or no red carpeted steps or rain of flower petals. There were no guns or accusation or lingering feelings of doubt as he dreamt on.

Instead he was in his bedroom, on his bed with his Chocobo hoodie on and some worn out sweat pants as he cuddled with Pryan with the scent of flowers coming from her fur.

He was safe.

/+\x/+\

Prompto waved at Aranea as he left, the figure of her body growing smaller and smaller as both of them left opposite directions from each other. But that was ok. He will be ok.

He was going to find them, he was going to find Noct.

/+\x/+\

In the distance a figure looked on with a smile of amusement.

It seems that after all his careful planning and well placed pawns on the board an unexpected rogue managed to come and save the damsel in distress after all.

And here he was hoping for a good show, not that this was less entertaining of course but it wasn’t the results he had hoped for.

Ah well, he supposed. There is still time to do a curtain call before the next stage appearance.

With that he reached into his coat and pulled out his phone. Pressing it open and a few buttons on the bottom and was about to pocketed the device once more before he paused. Humming he pressed once more and he left to find a better seat than the one he had.

The show was still not over after all.

/+\x/+\

He had expected Ardyn, he knew he had to expect Ardyn, that bastard was never going to truly let him after that mind game he pulled on him. He was the one to come in front of him and throw him off his snowmobile before shooting at him which did nothing (he didn’t know he was immortal at the time) and was swiftly knocked out before he woke up in an empty room with bars for a wall.

(“Well isn’t this a surprised.”)

What he did not expect was to have three airships worth of MT’s falling from the sky near where he was.

He thought he was imagining things and that this must be a mistake on his part when one of the MT aimed his gun at his head.

So… this wasn't a mistake. Good to know.

He only managed to get behind the bike before the first wave of gunfire shot his way. Grunting, he moved to grab the sniper behind his back but was interrupted with his movement when a sword came down on him. He yelped, rolled away because that was the only thing he could do if he didn't want to be cut into half. When he looked again he could see it was not just one but three MTs that were swirling and swinging their swords at him. Forgetting the sniper, he grabbed two of the hand guns he found at the base before shooting at them.

The first MT went down, its head blasted from its body with purple smoke coming from its neck.

The second MT had both of its arms shot off before its chest was open enough for the Daemon inside to become burned from the sun overhead.

The third one was to close, having only one of its hands being shot at before he was at arms reach. Panicking, Prompto rolled away, got behind the MT before jumping on its back and efficiently killing it after a bit of struggling.

Quickly he scrambled away from the empty armor, going back to the safety of the bike when he felt something on his shoulder.

Reluctantly he looked.

He was shot.

They were shooting at him with open fire.

He was fast but not fast enough when he tucked down to the snow floor. He could feel a sharp needle like pain in his leg and stomach as he crawled his way to the bike. As much as he knew it wasn’t the best place to be when getting shot at it was the only place he could really avoid them. Once he was sure he was covered enough he grabbed the sniper and dared a peak over the snowmobile.

They were reloading.

He shot three MTs before they opened fire at him again.

He breathed harshly, both from the dry cold air and the pain that was going through his body. Frantically he searched his coat for potions but all he found was some records and files he tucked away for Ignis to look at.

He cursed his luck.

The shooting stop, ready for a reload.

He fired again.

He was sloppy this time, he could tell. He only managed to kill one MT and was shooting at three others blindly, hardly getting a hit in before they opened fire again.

He crushed his luck again before looking in his coat for something, anything. A map perhaps? Or maybe even a radio? Or another potion. He just needs something. Anything!

(He needed to get to Noct.)

He didn’t release when or how but when he looked up from his search there was no sound.

He found out why.

An MT sniper was in front of him, his gun pointing right at his heart.

His eyes went wide, before becoming glazed, then they became sad.

He was bleeding too much, he could feel the stab wound on his stomach bleeding again, the bullet holes in his body weren’t helping. He had no potions, nothing to heal him. No one knew he was here, Ardyn maybe but it seems like he wasn't going to let him pass. He was too slow and his body was starting to feel heavy.

He had nowhere to go.

(Noct. He needed Noct.)

He smiled.

(I’m sorry Noct.)

The click of a safety was heard in the frozen air.

( ~~“Ever at your side.”~~ )

A shot was sounded but no one was there to hear it for miles.

/+\x/+\

Ardyn hummed to himself.

No no… this wasn't right. Nothing about this felt right. It was… wrong.

Moving the pale hand off from the board he raised it to eye level before shifting it down to the wrist.

A barcode was staring right at him.

Yes, there it was.

Humming again he placed the hand back up neatly, twisting it so that the code was facing forward instead of hiding itself back away from prying eyes.

Done, he stepped back, smiling at his handy work.

Yes, he thought as he looked at the pale blonde skin covered in dry blood and lifeless eyes staring far off, this is perfect.

/+\x/+\

“ _I knew you would pick that door._ ” A gleeful sounding voice cheered, happy that the wait was finally over.

Noct snarled.

Hurrying his steps he ran faster. He could feel his muscle pulsing and his chest heaving but he doesn't care.

Prompto.

Noct grind his teeth.

How the hell did he not see it? How did he not know it wasn’t Ardyn but Prompto he pushed? How could he have done that?

How could he have hurt Prompto?

He saw a hall, a small short way but he turned to look inside.

His heart stopped.

He could see signs of soft tufted Chocobo hair at the far end.

Prompto.

He hurried his steps.

“Prompto!”

Relief was clear in his voice, filled with joy and heartbreak as he all but called out to the younger man's name. But the relief was short lived when the said man did not move to acknowledge him, not even a twitch.

His heartbeat quickened.

“Prompto,” he shouted as he opened the cage-like door. The joy he once had was not dipping into one of confusion. “Prompto…?”

The man still didn’t move.

Prompto…?

“....he...ut!”

“....wh….on?”

He could tell there were voices, voices that he knew were from Ignis and Gladio but he didn’t give them a second glance. His focus was only on Prompto.

Prompto was… pale. His skin looked too white and his arms were filled with holes. His hair looked dirtyed and damp like he hadn’t showered in ages. Clothes were clean but his skin was covered in something… dark.

Blood.

His heart was beating wildly.

“Prompto?”

No answer and he was starting to get annoyed (scared) when his best friend refused to say anything back but stopped when he saw the shackles click open with a pressing beep.

He dived to stop Prompto(‘s body) from hitting the floor. He didn’t want (to) hurt Prompto.

But as soon as he did, he could feel exactly what was wrong.

He was cold, so unseemingly, unnaturally cold that it burned. A strangled sound escaped him when he saw closer to the holes in his skin (body) and knew that they were bullet wounds. But what felt like a slap in the face was his eyes.

His eyes were empty, open but blurry with a fog of gray over past violet blue eyes.

His heart stopped.

No.

“..oct…!”

“..to…..on..”

“....?”

“..........gone.”

Gone.

Prompto was…

Shaky hands moved away from his hold over the unmoving (dead) blonde as he placed two fingers over his (cold blue) neak, hoping, praying!

….

Quiet.

Silent.

Still.

His eyes blew wide.

No…

Prompto…

(“Better late than never.”)

No...no...Prompto...

(“I’m a make this world a better place.”)

“Prom...Prom…. I-”

(“You with me?”)

“I-,” a sob broke. “I-I’m sorry…”

(“Uh-huh. Ever at your side.)

/+\x/+\

World is gone, the King trapped more than his ten year of slay.

Sleep he did, centuries and past.

Once he awoken the world was only that of ruin.

No one lived, no one survived.

The King walked a land of dead.

He was supposed to be the one to die.

Immortal he was made, a punishment for not doing what he was told.

Abandoned by the Gods he walked alone on ash and rubble.

Two Immortal beings walked the dead planet, destined to clash and fight for all eternity.

Not once was he accepted into the afterlife.

He walked on his broken kingdom.

A dead man walking.

/+\x/+\

Divine of …… essence  
….that of wha…….at…..be…needed…

I…..order of……...ig…..t of stone

…..n…….ple…….six..  
……...os…wish….f…….me…...pass..

Save....l…..touch……..veil  
Retrace…..he…...on……...from…..nom  
..do……….word……...id…...stone  
...id……….nge………..ist  
….re…...r...s…….va…..igh..  
...es…...h…….old……….y

…..and….ks……..di…..

…...l….bl…….champion…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you say, Prompto can't feel his stab wound that much mainly due to the cold. When you get cold you become numb and then you don't really feel a thing. 
> 
> And to how Prompto was shown off by Ardyn to the bros.. well... he did had four corpuses hanging in chains while their bodies were twisted in a unholy way so... yeah....
> 
> I never expected this to have too much angst, but looking back I see I didn't do so well on that. So that's why I had a little soft moment of peace when Prompto meet with Noctis in this time line (as short lived as it is because GODS dose he need that single moment of peace with the man he loves (even if said man messed it up by being a big dumb dumb and falling for Ardyn's tricks and not letting Prompto speak unlike the first timeline)). Don't worry, the angst train will make a stop down town in two chapters time, or chapter 5 is another angst filled chapter before we get to number 6. Also he is a strong boi! Going through ten (20 really) years of darkness and time travel? Sure there is questioning needing answering and trauma to study but he went through that and made it alive and still was the kick ass he was at the end of the game (even if he was hesitance with Noct because, you know, Kings death and all)
> 
> but that's not important.
> 
> what is important is this!!
> 
> **!!!!!!!!!!!Very Important Question!!!!!!!!!!!**
> 
> This question is one that will effect the future of the story and where the next few chapters will land and the vote majority of this question will be shown on the 6th chapter!
> 
> You'll understand when it comes.
> 
> just think carefully on this
> 
> **?????????Luna or Cor??????????**
> 
> **GO!**


	5. Unit 05953234

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He did it again and he woke up again.
> 
> Yet this time he can't open his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the last Angsty chapter but it will be the last one in this long deep depressing beginning before we turn this into fluff. Lots of fluff. Got to give the people what they want.
> 
> Ah but yes I think one of the tags do include this kind of death this time around....uh-ANYWAYS!!
> 
> Also to ask again for anyone who did not see or answer this question before I officially start to write chapter 6
> 
> **??????Luna or Cor??????**

He didn’t want to wake up.

Prompto didn’t want to know where he was, his mind, heart, and soul tired and sadden. He did not want to think about where he was. What was the point? He had died the last two, one where he could never make it and the other was a happy ending, a good ending! It's just… the selfish part of him, the one that felt cold every time he looked at the royal couple laughing and kissing when near close friends made him want to run away. It wanted him to rest, start and do it all over again.

Then of course he got himself killed didn’t he? The first two tries were always of Noct dying now he was the one dying all because he was selfish beyond compare.

It was stupid, he was so so stupid.

Why couldn’t he just stay happy? Ignis has his eyes and Gladio watched over his family with pride. Noct was a happy King with his equally as beautiful and happy wife. He grew and had children, two kind and sweet children that would call him Uncle Prompto whenever he would be in charge of guarding them. He would always make up funny stories and joke with them a lot to keep their smiling faces pure and innocent of the war they were through. Yet, it was him who could not let go. It was him that couldn’t look at the happy future he had and could only think ‘this was wrong’.

Then he left in the middle of the night, took one of the newly fixed cars he tweaked and rode off to the border before ditching the car and took the bus from there.

Why did he leave? If he remembered correctly he called in for that day, going to his quarters before dropping on his bed to sleep and-

 _“_ **_Th_ ** _~~Is i~~ S yO _ **_u_ ** **_r_ ** _th ~~i~~ _ ~~**_R_ ** ~~ ~~_D C_ **_h_ ** ~~ _OIce_ _. W_ _a_ **_t_ ** _C_ _h_ **_i_ ** **_t W_ ** _~~El~~ l _ _.”_

….that was right. It was those words… those words that kept haunting him.

The words that told him that this was wrong.

He didn’t know how or why but for some reason those words were everything to him.

They told him to watch and he did, they told him that this was his third choice and he guarded and protected it with all he could offer. It was then, when he heard those words again that he realised that it wasn’t meant to be.

He watched enough.

And he died to get away.

It felt right, right to go to his birthplace and sleep. It felt nice to feel the cold on his skin and the jewel on his palm, the warm it gave him that spread all over his body. It felt right to have the snow cover his hair and his eyes sliding to a more vibrant color of purple. It felt right… it felt like he was whole….like… he was free.

Well, much as that was worth, it only got him killed again.

Was it even worth it? Noct was happy, he was happy with Luna by his side and his two children. He was happy fixing his kingdoms and giving Ardyn the true title of Founder King. He was happy with his wedding and his future in the light. So why was he so selfish to want to take that away just so he could be with him? To stay by his side instead of Luna? To be closer than he even was?

He is a selfish person, he took the only happiness he ever wanted to give to the one person he loved just so that he could be happy with him.

He was a selfish person and he died for it.

Prompto fell to sleep, not caring to understand where he was.

What does it matter anyways, if all he was ever good for was take away the only happiness Noctis had.

He is a selfish person.

He deserves to die.

/+\x/+\

_“No, Silver One. You are far more Beloved by most.”_

_“You have one but many Beginnings, a Soul whose journey is to protect and revive our Truth.”_

_“My Blessing is a part of you, my Mark will now be your Protection. “_

_“Trials may be set, Others will test you. To gather their Blessings is your right.”_

_“Your Soul is strong, however waver it will never break.”_

_“Only One may shatter and fix what is yours.”_

_“Do not dismiss so easily the Time of Fate that is used, every moment is Precious.”_

_“Love all and Beloved by all, Fate is our Gift to you.”_

_“It is the Silver One who weaves Her tale.”_

/+\x/+\

He stirred awake but he didn't open his eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to but rather he can’t. He can’t open his eyes.

(This is the first sign of Shiva’s tragedy.)

Scrunching up his nose he whined, or rather, he tried to. His throat wouldn't work. Something was holding him back.

(Mother watched Her child, one not made by Her hands yet still gifted with Her life as the child stirred.)

But then again his ears felt all muffed out, like he was under water. Heavy and thick in his ears that he made a move to try and remove it.

(She trembled, a frightening sight as She watched Her child trying to see, to breathe, to live.)

Then he found out he couldn’t move his arms. His limbs, from the many times of morning runs and sleepless nights, he knew were not moving because they were not tired but put into place. Something was holding him back.

(She bowed her head, unable to do anything, unable to see, but also unable to unhear how Her child struggled to survive.)

_Something was wrong._

(Shiva weeps, finally, heartbroken and shattered that the Soul of Her King and Her heart child struggle to understand.)

Where was he?

(She knew what was to come and cursed the ill fate they gave Her child.)

_What was going on?_

(A Mother will forever love Her child, always seeking to hold, nurture and care for Her child.)

_Noct, where am I?_

(But what like any mother like their Mother, She could not bear to see Her child with Her after passing.)

_Who am I?_

(Bitter tears washed in the waves as the ice Goddess watched Her child's last breath.)

_What am I?_

(“I’m sorry….”)

“Prototype N-iP01357 Unit 05953234 has malfunctioned.”

/+\x/+\

He blinked at the announcements, a touched surprised, a touched annoyed, but really all he could think about was “Unfortunately expected”.

Dr. Oriole groaned and he moved to stretch his arms back and rotate his shoulders to get rid of the stiffness of his body. With little success he shrugged it off and moved his wheeling chair to the other side of the room to get down to business.

Yawning he hand his right hand typing on his computer - his password, the lab password, and the project's own set of PIN’s - to get in and see what was the problem as he used his left hand to take a swing of the frosted cup of coffee near the side. It wasn’t till the screen lit a shade of blue that he placed the cup down. He pressed a few more keys on the board, an off tune humming rang in the sounds of clicking before he stopped his fingers from moving and watched.

It was a slightly off angled view of one of the tubes, a front row seat to see one of the first copies of their new project struggling and flailing in it’s unconscious state. Its body was bare yet it had the same green tint as the substance in the testing area. What was fascinating to the Doctor was that while his struggle was limited to small movements, the Unit has one of its eyes slightly open. What was supposed to be glowing crimson red was a bright azul blue.

Fascinating.

“Ohhh,” Dr. Oriole voiced as he watched the struggling experiment trying to move. To his honest surprise he was curious and enraptured by this small set back and minimal error. How could the Unit move so much? Was it aware it was awake or did the program get inserted too soon that it signaled some of the nerves in its body to act and awaken it? What was it seeing? Was it aware of its orders and programming or did it short circuit and was the 1:16 failure in every scientific ratio of success? 

Truly this scientist was curious and enraptured in this error, this flaw of code that they overlooked - imagine all the discoveries he could make if he could be right there, or perhaps even open the thing and see what went wrong to further enchant the others - but even he knew that if he were to sit there watching a prototype combust on itself that he will be the next to combust if he doesn’t get back to work.

With a reluctant sigh, Oriole grabbed a sticky note on the side of his desk and wrote himself a reminder to watch the rest of recording later tonight, before placing it on his computer screen.

He hummed, satisfied enough that he would know what would happen next to the runt, he left to his door to order one of the MT’s to do a quick clean up.

While extraordinary it was, there was no room for failures. He really didn’t want to do clean up duty. But- hmm… maybe he could ask them instead to put the failed experiment in an icebox for him to open up? Yes, maybe he should.

Changing the orders again, he went back inside the lab and made a beeline to his desk and swirling chair, mind back on trace on the new weapon parts he was asked to recreate and enchant with the Daemons in their holding cell.

And just like that, no more thoughts lingered on the dying Prototype N-iP01357, Unit 05953234.

/+\x/+\

His body was never found, touched. Once the MT Unit went to dispose of it ( **_HIM_ , HOW DARE YOU-**) they could find nobody to recover. Only a thin sheet of layed ice surrounded the once inhabited holding cell. 

No one asked questions, dismissed it as it wasn’t a real loss to them for what had happened to the error. No one fought to seek out the body and the Doctor went back to his blueprints. No one cared about the life they lost.

She was enraged.

/+\x/+\

No one had any idea of Prompto Argentum. 

Winds were harsher that day, the snow made into ice shards that ripped into skin and bone.

26 people died, buried in snow and found after the storm. Others suspect there was more to find but 26 was the number they found, 43 was the number missing.

Shiva was angry, the pale haired said, the Goddess showed her wrath at those who defy her. It was the Niff’s, the sun kissed locals gossiped, they went too far. They were killers, the water webbed people spoke, those that were killed had done something unforgivable.

Words rang and soon words reached those of the above. 

Titan shifted in His spot, His movement caused a few earthquakes that took weeks to repair. He did not understand but He knew that Shiva saw Her Blessed and went enraged. He stayed silent.

Ramuh griefed, lighting scratter across the sky yet not making a single hit, only water touched the ground. He understood and wished the next time they met he could give him His Blessing to stop this horror.

Leviathan broke the currents of the ocean, adding that to Ramuh’s own storm. She bellowed and cursed, if the one seeking Her Blessing passed on what was the use of playing nice?

Bahamut did nothing. He did not care. He watched the young Prince of the last bloodline with patience. 

Ifrit slept, trapped and kept in a lock of darkness. He could feel His once Beloved crying in icey tears. He did not know nor could He understand why but still did He not move. He was tired.

No one knew, not even the Oracle Queen herself, could explain why the Astrals have cried as they did so. No one knew till a younger Oracle, one sealed away from her freedom, had asked in passing what was the Day of Monitum Vocum.

“That was the day that one of - _my_ \- Blessed One was taken, Lady Lunafreya. My Silver One was taken along with Our Light.”

The young Oracle can’t understand, old enough to see it was important but still young to miss the meaning behind the Goddesses words. 

She wasn’t able to ask again, nor when she was the next one to depart from this world.

The world moves on but They knew it would not continue forever more.

Yet They watch this end, She waits for a new chance, and He takes his power once again.

A World or Ruin.

/+\x/+\

Fate gave the King a Body and Mind, both at his side with him as the Heart.

They were whole yet not complete, they missed a Soul.

But the Heart, the King, could never find his Soul.

And he searched and searched, even with his Kingdom crumbling and his world changed to Darkness.

Save his Kingdom he did yet he could not save his people. 

Power he had, but the light they was given wasn’t enough. 

It wasn’t enough.

King Noctis was the last of his line, and the last to rule a broken Kingdom.

It was never revived.

/+\x/+\

Diviner of Blessed essence  
Seek that of what should be Heeded

Set by doubtless Trials, Breaker of Stone

…..n…….ple…….six..  
……...os…wish….f…….me…...pass..

Save....l…..touch……..veil  
Retrace…..he…...on……...from…..nom  
..do……….word……...id…...stone  
...id……….nge………..ist  
….re…...r...s…….va…..igh..  
...es…...h…….old……….y

…..and….ks……..di…..

…...l….bl…….champion…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more Cor or Luna? I have two votes for Cor right now but you never know.
> 
> Monitum Vocum = Warning Cries
> 
> (Gods I need some coffee because WOW I should have never have change my schedule this past week to 10 hrs of sleep to 3. Ugh my EYE!!)


	6. Papa Cor: Baby Prom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So.... I'm a baby...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate school.
> 
> Welp its been more then a month now But I finally have... part of a chapter... yeah....
> 
> So if your expecting alonger one you would have to wait, school finally arrived for me and I'm going to die soon so hoo boy lets see how this goes.

He woke up cold.

Naturally he flinched. The cold was not something he had happy memories about.

(Falling, bleeding, crying.)

(The fire is there, so warm it's burning his hand.)

(He can’t, can’t breath.)

(Such a selfish person he is, why couldn’t he accept it. They were happy?!)

(HE DESERVED TO-)

Something was pressing his back, pushing him to a cushion of soft firmness.

Soft, warm, safe.

Love.

He closed his eyes.

/+\x/+\

He woke up tired. 

Usually when he wakes up he would be aware, or as aware as he could be. Despite his time when it was just him and Ravus and how his mind fogged from the hit on the head, he could still tell where he was and with a little searching he would know exactly ‘when’ he was. This time though he didn’t know where he was, his limbs feeling off, and his mind too slow for his own good. Opening his eyes only for him to instantly have to close them when he felt a yawn pulling through and escaping through his mouth. Weirdly he felt that something must have happened to his hearing if what he heard was something more… high. At least, higher than how his voice was originally but maybe that is his imagination.

He felt a shift under him.

Confused, he opened his eyes again, this time with no yawn pulling through him. But once he did he blinked once, twice, then once more.

He was in someone's arms.

What…?

Scrunching his eyebrows he moved his hands to rub against his eyes. It wasn’t till mid-rub that he figured out what might have been ‘off’ about him.

First of all, his hands were bare. Nothing was on them. No fingerless gloves or leather wrist band or any bracelets to help cover his wrist and he could see the dark accusing lines of his barcode against pale light skin that looked like they had never been sun-kissed before.

The next thing was that his hands were small and slightly chubby.

He blinked.

What the heck?

He didn’t get to finish what his line of thought was going to take him but he didn’t need to anyways.

Because he was now face to face with Cor the Immortal.

Maybe it was the fact the last time he saw the man was during the darkest of days, maybe it's because he would always see the man as someone to seek comfort for, or it could be because he was trained under him even after the kingdom got restored, or perhaps he didn’t see a single scar or gray out facial hair on the warrior but the next thing he knew he was smiling a mile a minute and a called out to the person in front of him.

“Or! Ar!”

….or tired to. 

What the fu-?!

“Cor?”

Will it doesn’t matter anyways because the next thing he knew he was turned around and pressed against the man's chest against his back. It was nice, relaxing even…. If he wasn’t facing the goddamn King and his Shield!

And no he wasn’t talking about Noct, although that would make even less sense in a way.

Sitting on his throne a ways up from where he was, Prompto could see a younger and more healthier King Regis. He still had a beard and hair all pushed back away from his forehead but he could still clearly see how that it was all dark and no signs of silver anywhere. He had none of the wrinkles he would always see or tired small bags under his eyes. He seemed stronger, glowing even. 

Next to him was the King’s Shield and Gladio’s dad, Clarus Amicitia. To be honest he didn’t recognize the man at all, he only knew who he was when he saw the symbol of the King’s Shield that Gladio started to wear after Noct’s wedding. His hair was not shaved off like the first time he met the shield and he had a beard and mustache but still far shorter when compared to the King’s. His hair was a dark brown, similar to Gladio’s and Iris’, unlike the usually white out grey.

Now that he thought about, why didn’t any of the men in front of him have silver hair? Rude yes but he never saw any of them without at least a number of white in their hair except for Cor. But then again Cor looked-.

No.

No, no, no, no!

No! What in Shiva’s name did-no-When! he get sent back to!?

“Cor.”

Prompto, already having his mental breakdown, had to forcefully bring himself back in order to hear the King. After all, he had to know why he was here and with such a small body. And in front of the King no less!

“Cor,” the King said again but it sounded strangled, like he was trying hard not to shout at him which made Prompto winch at. ”Why do you have a baby of all things with you?”

Huh… so he was that young. 

“That doesn’t come until later in the report,” he heard Cor deadpanned. As he said that he felt the rumbling of his voice vibrating in his chest which Prompto immediately relaxed into, which was weird since he never did this with Cor anytime before but it felt like the right course of action to do so he didn’t question it when Cor shifted him to rest fully on his chest. In fact, it was so warm and comforting that he hummed and snuggled in more in the Marshal’s embrace.

“Skip ahead!” Now the King’s voice sounds really strained.

“I arrived in Hammerhead around the fift-”

“Oh for the love of-,” the King threw his hands in the air in a sign of frustration, a sight Prompto never saw and was slightly amused and mostly in shock that the calm and powerful King would take such action. “Just - Cor please, tell me you didn’t steal someone's baby.”

Steal? Well no, Cor would never do that. 

“He might have been someone's baby before-”

….ok maybe he would. But, that shouldn’t be right. He was a clone, a byproduct of some inhuman experiments that made him into...  _ this.  _ He was created in a  _ lab _ , made to become a  _ MT.  _ But he never did become one, was never made into one because one of the recordings said-

**Wait.**

“-but all rights  _ anyone _ had over him was revolted as soon as he was locked away.”

**Wait!**

Both the King and Shield immediately tensed and the King waved his hand in a continuous gesture. “Start from the beginning.”

What in the ‘effen living Astrals is going on!

Shiva!

Whatever answer he wanted from the Goddess was answered in the form of Cor the Immortal giving the King and Shield a report of his mission.

Prompto just wanted to die.

Just die.

Astrals save him.

/+\x/+\

He must have slept without realizing it because the next thing he knew he felt the not so suitable shift around him and it only took him a few seconds of opening his eyes to understand why.

He was being moved and taken away from a person with a lab coat.

A white lab coat and a person with white hair.

And his vision tunneled.

_ He can’t breath, why can’t he breath?! _

_ No, his drowning. Whatever that green liquid was, it was inside of his lungs. It’s burning him and he can’t breath. _

_ He can’t breath. _

_ Reaction more than instincts kicked in as he flailed. His arms, short boney things that he never knew was physically possible, were waving and swirling the liquid. Instead of moving however, he had  _ _ stood floating in place. _

_ His eyes were starting to burn. _

_ Legs that were still till now made the motions of swimming upward, trying to push him up. Up where there was air. Up where he could find a way out. Up where he can escape. _

_ Escape. _

_ The glowing neon liquid all around him made so much more sense. _

_ His eyes started to burn but not from the green goop. _

_ He was going to die and he was in the worst place possible.  _

_ A place in which he had just escaped and now was brought back. One in which he was mentally manipulated and scared. Another in which he was bleeding out. And another time in which he salvaged the ruins of his one time home to help another.  _

_ Now he was brought here, not by Ardyn or by a mission, he was brought here by time itself. _

_ And time was a cruel being. _

_ He screamed. _

“-ght. See? We won’t get you checked up right now. We can do it later, alright?”

Check? What was he talking about? Who was talking to him anyways?

Questions came to mind but it was only then did he realized that he was also being held tightly to something warm and safe. A little swarming around and he looked up only to see the face of a conflicted Cor looking down on him in small signs of worry, anger, and fear.

The last one threw him off the loop.

Why was he scared? Was there an attack? Did something-?

Oh. 

He didn’t notice until now but he was breathing in heavy pants. His eyes felt like they were burning and his cheeks felt wet.

He was screaming.   


He was crying.

Damn.

Trying to calm himself down he closed his mouth, stopping the screams that were starting to echo in his ears. But he only managed to close his lips before a sob escaped. Wailings and whimpers, sobs and cries. His chest was hurting and his cheeks were becoming sticky with tears.

He tried to stop, he really did, but no matter what nothing was working. Why wasn’t it working? It worked when he was alone in the snow, it worked when he stayed with Ravus, it worked when Luna died so why won’t it-?

Another choked out sob escaped.

Why, why, why was this so hard? Why can’t he stop? Please… someone… make it sto-

A hand, warm and familiar settled on his back before being pulled tightly.

“I’m sorry. We won’t go see the doctor today. We will just clean you today alright. I’m sorry.”

Cor.

His sobs softened and turned into whimpering. Looking for comfort Prompto pressed himself closer, seeking the warmth and safe feeling of protection whenever he was near the Immortal. 

He wasn’t disappointed when Cor didn’t push him back.

“Marshal, Sir.” A voice said behind him and he idmiteinly flinched. He didn’t know this voice, and in turn, was scared of this voice and who they might be. “The MT needs to be cheeked and diagnosed to see if it isn’t a danger to th-”

Prompto stopped listening.

_ Mt. _

_ It. _

_ Danger. _

He gripped tighter onto Cor’s shirt, didn’t care for the dirt and stale state the cloth was in. 

They thought he was an MT, the one thing he was made to be and the one thing he fought his whole life not to be.

His stomach was turning and his lips were wobbling.

Shit.

“He is a child. A child that was experimented on and trapped. He is not an MT and he is not an  _ it _ .”

Prompto blinked. 

Was… was he….

“You are only ordered to examine him, not rip him  _ apart _ .” Venom was clear and Prompto shivered. “His Majesty never said when the results were needed and he certainly didn’t say it had to come from you Dr. Que.”

He… Cor was…

“Now if you excuse me I have more pressing businesses to attention.”

And with that Prompto felt the turning of Cor moving away as he walked in heavy stomps away from the protesting doctor. 

And Prompto’s whole world suddenly seems so much bigger.

And brighter.

/+\x/+\

When Cor said that they were going to clean him today he didn’t know what he meant. That was until he was stripped and dipped down onto a bathtub of water. As soon as he entered the water turned brown and dark. Cor had to replace the water again when he couldn’t take off all the grimm the first time. 

It was also when he saw himself for the first time.

Looking at the reflection in the water that was staring back at him, he almost flinched back. He was pale, deadly pale. His skin looked so white that he was surprised he wasn’t shivering. His eyes were not the bright blue he was used to and instead were a deep dark violet that had flickers of red every time he squinted. Small truffles of blonde was sticking up before pushed down flat with the water Cor drops over his head. He could see holes in his skin, near his forearm and wrist. It wasn’t until he looked closer that he found only a needle could do such damage. 

He didn’t want to think who or what was poking him, what they tried to inject into him. 

But what always seemed to attract his attention was the barcode on his wrist. Not because of what it meant but the questions that came with it.

Why did Cor take him? Why was he brought to the palace if they know he was an MT? How come no one was killing him on sight yet?

He pouted as he became lost in thought. 

So many questions yet no answers, not just in this life but in others as well. 

But… maybe…

“Ba!”

Ugh! Getting himself to talk again is going to be a pain. His tongue feels wrong and his lips aren’t working as well as they should have. Damn this is going to be a problem.

At least to Cor it was to be expected. He was what? Two years old? One year? Well he knows for sure he was taken when he was around one so maybe a year and a half? Whatever age he was, he was pretty sure it's still safe to say that syllables and sounds were the only things adults were expecting from him.

Cor, hearing his small sound, stop to look at him. Probably from being so quiet, Ptompto thought as he stretched out his hand. The one with black ink.

“Ba!”

Cor raised his eyebrow slightly, easily seen from Prompto’s point of view, before looking down. His gaze instantly hardened.

Shit! Did… did he not know? Did he just mess up? Shit was he going to get killed?!

Whining when Cor looked at his barcode he watched as his face went from anger, sadness, worry, to tense. It was one of the few times he had ever seen him betray so many emotions at once. Gently Cor took a hold of his hand and covered his barcode with his other hand.

Prompto tensed.

What was he going to do?

“You won’t have to worry. No ones going to hurt you anymore.”

...oh. He… he… oh….

Prompto was naive, a commoner who had no business when it came to Noct and his royal duties. He understood that the rest of his friends had different lives compared to him. While he may joke and laugh with them he would always be reminded how different he was to them: when Noct showed confusion on his day job, were Ignis saw the prices on the ingredients Prompto pointed out to him when they go shopping, to Gladio and the route in which Prompto would use to for his daily runs. How common knowledge would be foreign to them always made him taken back more than he would let on. He never quite understood their high upbringing but he never denied them when it came to them dropping out plans or saying they had to do work at the palace. He understood yet he felt so left out.

So it can be said that it was no surprise whenever he looked at his wrist and thought he was abnormal. That somehow he was never to belong, not with his friends, to the local Lucians, and not to the refuge Niffs. 

Then it turned out he belonged to a monster of a father who made him and well... 

He felt so alone, always in fear, always scared what might happen to him. Even when they accepted him and adored him he was still scared. Always hiding, always covering up his flinches, ignoring the burn in his eyes, acting like he wasn’t in pain and showing how unaffected he was.

That was the first timeline. Then the second one he never thought about it, confused from his dream state. His third try was when it really hit him, barricading himself and forcing his cheery persona to keep everyone away. The fourth one was easier since no one was there to see him cry. The fifth one didn’t last long. 

In every lifeline, he never allows someone to touch his wrist. Not willingly at least. He remembered Ravus having to bandage his wrist and Ardyn mocking him with his inked tattoo. It hurt more when they touched it and his whole body screamed when someone would so much as come near his wrist. His wrist was a secret, a secret in which could get him killed.

But Cor was touching it. He was holding him like he was someone worth hold. Like he was made of fragile glass. He defended him and he held him when he cried. 

Cor was safe.

He was safe.

He cried a second time that day. Not from fear but in disbelief.

Safe.

What a strange word. 

And for once it was true.

/+\x/+\

He never knew Cor could be so soft. He was patient and helpful in a more experienced sort of way, he never did say the details in his advice but it was straight forward enough that he would always understand what he meant. The Cor he knew was hard on him but he was also caring with how he would stop training whenever he saw him struggling or would take him to see some of the last Chochobos in the ten years of darkness. He never outright said how he cared for him but his actions were enough: hair ruffles, treating his wounds, and even his offer to trim his hair (which ended up far more nicer than he had expected).

He wasn’t used to this new Cor though. This Cor who rubbed his hair gently to dry it clean, one who fed him a bagel for dinner, and how he dressed him up in a shirt he was pretty sure fit for a ten year old draped over his whole body like a dress.

He couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculousness of it all, small babbles and sounds escaped his lips that he couldn’t control. 

It was strange but not unwelcome. He didn’t have any memories when he was young, the furthest is when Mr. Argentum walked him to school and told him to pay attention to the route they were taking so he could walk himself during his first day of second grade. As much as he likes to deny it, the Argentums were never there, hell, he doesn’t even call them his parents. So this new attention of guiding hands and soft care was new to him, alien even. 

And it felt so nice to have someone.

So that was why, when he was placed in a bed in a semi-empty room with weapons up in a small display and Cor telling him he was going to sleep there he was fine with it.

Until he closed the door and left it.

Cor ripped the door open so fast that he would had worried if he broke the thing if he wasn’t busy screaming his lungs out. He only managed to quiet his screaming in pitiful sobs when Cor moved him to a different room which he thought was his room since it looked a bit more personalized. Cor didn’t take his hands off of his, even when he quiet down to silent tears and to small hiccups. 

The darkness was something he hated, but being alone truly scares him the most.

After all, three out of the five were of him dying alone.

/+\x/+\

He didn’t realize how he managed to fall asleep but waking up to being laid on top of Cor was hilarious. He never did manage to wake up before him when he was an adult, either because the grown man was used to having no sleep or waking in ungodly hours it was clear that this Cor still had to enforce that habit of his. He always found it frustrating whenever it was clear he could never out sleep him. But this Cor...

He wanted to take advantage of this rare opportunity.

Crawling a bit to get closer to the Immortal’s face he heaved himself up and upright himself in a sitting position. Using a small semi-chubby, semi-skinny (guess he was always bad with his weight) he moved it to the side of Cor’s face before lightly tapping it.

Nothing.

Huh. 

Putting a little more pressure this time he lightly slapped the man's face.

Cor’s face scrunched up a bit before relaxing once again.

...Wow. He never knew he was a heavy sleeper. 

This was getting personal though.

Using a bit more pressure this time he sounded an annoyed whine.

Cor Leonis turned his face away from him.

Oh. Oh!

Fine then!

Prompto had no mercy when he slapped both hands on his cheeks with a loud slap.

/+\x/+\

Prompto was starting to learn a bit more about his smaller body. 

It’s been a few days since he woke up to being carried in Cor’s arms. He felt so worn out. Doctor visits, going to see some engineers (much to both Prompto’s and Cor’s displeasure), having looked for some more kid suited clothes, meeting Monica again (getting fussed over and declared him her favorite nephew was a little weird), and getting to be taken with Cor everywhere.

And the glares. He hated the glares. Not many people seem to know what he is since most of the staff fuse and coo at him like he was normal. 

(Never was.)

But they are others who do know what he is, what he was meant to be. They weren’t that kind to him, glares and mutters and poking and handling him as if he were a toy. One of the doctors, a man with white hair and thick frame glasses, even asked if they could take out his eye! Cor was so angry when he heard that and saw Prompto scream. They never saw that man again after that.

Yet there were a few people that didn’t openly show hate at him. Some were discreet about their anger and were passable at best so that the Marshal won’t get mad at them. But they were a few who knew who or what he was and lavished him in affection. Monica was not surprised by him, after how Cor acted he would say that Monica would follow his lead and see him as a non threat. What he hadn't expected was for her to dot on him, playing, dressing, and even carrying him around proclaiming she is now his aunt. It was strange since he never did interact with Monica that much at all, slightly uncomfortable that he was technically a grown man who had the body of his younger self getting so much attention (any attention really) but he accepted her and her dotting.

There was an engineer who was very nice to him as well. She has the common black hair that she always tied in a braided and twisted it to a bun, honey brown eyes, and surprisingly a large amount of freckles. He had never seen a Lucian with freckles before so he was surprised and in awe when he first saw her. Out of all the engineers who fused and tried to find if he was part robot she only checked around his skin before asking some questions. She didn’t poke him with needles or tell him to ‘show his CPU’. She asked things like, “Do you know what a cat is?” “Do you know what I’m saying?” “Do you know that man who brought you in?” Simple stuff really. The questions were always away from his origins and were instead of simple things a baby was supposed to know. He couldn’t talk yet but he would alway nod or shake his head so it helped when she made the ‘explain’ question to ‘yes or no’ type of questions for him to answer.

There was also a guard that followed them around every time they entered the palace. He was tall but he could tell he was young and definitely not Lucin. He had darker skin than most but he still had the common brown hair and blue eyes. He was nice, so nice that Prompto suspected that he didn’t know who (what) he was but he overheard him and Cor talk about the doctors who wanted to  _ open  _ (please no no no) him and he knew that he was one of the few who realizes what he was. He was kind, watching him without glaring his hate like others would do, talking to him like he was human, and one of the few he allowed to carry him when others try to get a closer look at him.

(He seems familiar.)

(I’ve seen you before.)

(But where?)

(Who are you?)

(Why are you so important?) 

(Why does it feel like I failed you?)

While there are few who do like him - it was still a big change from the gang to a group of soldiers he respected in the near future - he realized he had a few changes as well. 

For one he could not talk. Well he knows that since he is still a child but he’s behind. According to the doctors, for his age group (nearing his second year in a few months) he should have started to memorize and say a few words by now, yet he had not. Not a single word. Only sounds and babbels which he guessed he could understand. He didn’t exactly get to speak much less become aware of anything since he was supposed to be dormant by being placed in a coma like state in which he would be infected and slowly become an MT in yearly time.

Or from what he remembered reading from the reports he stole with Ravus. 

(Is that what happened to them?)

(Were those bodies even alive?)

(Did they know they were human?)

(Did they even know they were alive!?)

Another thing was that he was weak. Not as ‘I’m just a lazy type of weak’ or ‘I’m a baby still learning to walk weak’ but genuinely weak. Like ‘he can’t walk a few steps before his legs give out because he can’t feel them weak’. 

And it was frustrating.

He tried to move as much as possible, always trying to learn to stand more than five seconds much less trying to walk because he can’t even lift his foot before he falls down.

Then can the worse part.

He doesn’t feel hungry.

Food was always something he kept tabs on. When he was in elementary he only bought cheap fast foods, mostly because it was cheap, mostly because he can’t cook. But then he met Noctis and when he got the letter from Luna it strengthened his revolution to befriend Noct. From then he ate more healthy foods, mostly salads and fruits before he taught himself to cook heath based meals. It wasn’t until Noct started to share his lunches with him and when he saw that he would sometimes eat only salads that he gave him a taste of Iggy’s food. 

By god he never wanted to eat anything else ever again. Going on that road trip with the gang was heaven when it came to cooking since it was Iggy’s cooking 24/7. Mostly anyways but Iggy could make anything they find into a five star meal.

However for some reason he wasn’t hungry, or didn’t feel like it. 

Cor would always try to feed him broth which he could take down easily, but when it came to solid foods or anything other than broth he just can’t stomach it. He didn’t know why but whenever he tried to eat the food he felt like it tasted wrong. Crackers were too salty, pasta was too hard, fruits felt like slush. Heck, he even refused to eat apple sauce of all things since it tasted like ash.

The others were getting worried over him but Cor said it might be because he ate only flavored water when he tried to bring him to Insomnia. The doctors said that it's normal for him to drink broth as his meals but he should have been eating soft foods by now. The engineers just think it's not part of his program.

Cor yelled at that one.

It’s… strange. He had a younger body, one where he was a baby instead of a young adult or a seasoned soldier. He has someone that is taking care of him where he was always home alone. He spent his whole life not knowing who he was but here everyone knows.

It's strange and different and weird and...and… he…

He….

He likes it. He likes this small change of life he has. Whether it was true in the first timeline or a small change on this timeline he doesn’t care.

He’s here now, and he’s going to live it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question
> 
> What type of time travel fic do you guys like the best?  
> 1) One where the characters mental state is transported  
> EX - Having 34 year old Prom in his 14 year old body  
> 2) One in which the characters physically travel back  
> EX - Having 34 year old Prom meet 14 year old Prom  
> 3) Loops  
> EX - This story


	7. Somnus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can you hear me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello everyone!!!!!! Welcome to the next short chapter of this following story of "Finding My Starlight"!!!!!
> 
> *cricket noise*
> 
> I-Oh. Its be how long now? Five months? Oh.... Oh dear..... Uh
> 
> Well you can see I'm very much alive and whole so you may @ at me since I know I probable deserve it...
> 
> So where have I been?
> 
> First of off, school. New year new life, and I have to say that starting school again was not fun at all, especially when I have to do it in doors with my computer 24/7 which just messed up my whole sleep schedule, eating schedule, my writing schedule, my - actually just all my schedules in general. Covid fucked me upso bad...........
> 
> Second was that I had more stories that I'm writing and in turn that lead to me straying away from this story as a whole which was bad on my end so shame on me
> 
> Thrid is that I gotten stuck on this story as well since I do have the chapters planned and all but plot wise, it strayed from the original purpose so thats that
> 
> So the new rules now is that I will post monthly, one chapter every start of the month/or end of said month since I have four open stories I need to update. Thankfully I have finish planning one so if i finish that one i may have only three left open stroies left for me to finish which will be a pain at best. So to try and balance everything I need to hold off one story for a year, this one monthly, another to be finsih in a month or so, and three more that I do every two weeks or so. Honestly this is the best I got for my schedual as a whole so if you have trouble understanding @ me.

_Deus dormit_

_Et liberi ignem faciunt_

_Numquam extinguunt_

_Ne expergisci possit_

/+\x/+\

‘I’m sorry I couldn't be at your side. I’m so sorry….’

Noctis.

Princess.

Your Highness.

Prince.

Your Majesty.

King of Light.

Chosen One.

Last of my Line.

Lucis Caelum.

Noct.

You will always be Noct.

“Ever at your side.

/+\x/+\

_Omnia dividit_

_Tragoedia coram_

_Amandum quae_

/+\x/+\

Would you like another chance?

Will you change fate?

Or is fate merely a myth?

Time is easy to see but hard to contain.

Grasp it in your hands for only a moment and you can see the world.

Yet that is for only a moment.

It can never stop changing. 

Consonantly the river of time and space do not have an end nor does it have a beginning.

Forever changing, forever moving.

No one can tell time, only a single point of what can be, never what will be.

The mind is easily swayed and easily tainted to such things.

Humans are naive creatures.

Yet so are Gods.

Words of Gods are law, words of higher beings are rules, those of lower standing do not have voice.

Seek thou peace only by my name they say.

Never true, never honest.

Time is forever moving, forever changing, yet, they do not know this.

So those who hear words of time are easily swayed, easily tamed, easily silenced.

But that is not true.

Be the space we stand now or the time of many worlds not one singular being has the power to redirect such things. 

One can never have the control of nature.

Least is what I say and know.

And now so do you.

Will you remember this?

I do not know.

But time will tell you, not her followers.

She knows best after all.

But remembered this.

She is also cruel.

/+\x/+\

_Et nocte perpetua_

_In desperatione_

_Auroram videre potest_

_Mane tempus expergiscendi_

/+\x/+\

“Why am I here?”

“-----------------”

“I don’t…. I don’t-why!”

“----”

“No! Why this! Why now! What could you possibly want know!?”

“------------”

“What do-You took him away from us! From me! You sent him to death!”

“--------”

“....What?”

“------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------”

“N-no…. So everything…. Then everything we did….”

“----------------------------------”

“....”

“------------------------------------------.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------”

“I-”

“-----------------------------------------------------------. ------------. ----------------------”

“....Apologizes then.”

“-------”

“So…. what now?”

“------------------------------------------------------------”

“Huh?”

“--------------------------------. --------------------------------------. -----. ----------------.”

“Alright.”

“I think I understand.”

“Then what is it that I need to do?”

/+\x/+\

Diviner of Blessed essence

Seek that of what should be Heeded

Set by doubtless Trials, Breaker of Stone

Earn thou Blessing of all Six

Pass this wish to Break the First’s

Save the King Light through Stars and Moon

Retract the poison of His Blood

Break thou vow of Stone Words

Stain the pages with Ink than Blood

Hold the Skies and raise Your King high

Words of Past hold nothing thou Sunrise

Silvered blooded and Chosen of many

Be Our King’s Champion Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The words you see are from teh song Somnus in which you can get the lyrics/translation in youtube. If you can't get the lyrcis I can post them here if someone commnets they cant find them. Other then that I hope to see you all in a month
> 
> Also this whole chapter is basically a foreshadow of so many things and even in chapter you would not expect it to be foreshadowing so if you ever need to look back from new future chapters just come to chapter 7


End file.
